Dilemma's Horns
by catzetier
Summary: AU of PoA. Gen. Sirius took a different corridor on his way out of Azkaban and encountered another innocent locked in a cell - and he couldn't leave him behind. But the problem with any dilemma is that it never has just TWO horns, and in choosing to rescue him, Sirius has opened up a whole lot of complications...
1. Chapter 1

**Well, finally. This character has been haunting me in one form or another since PoA was first _published_ and I'm not joking. Elen most definitely belongs to me, as do all my other OCs. Everything else (i.e. everyone and everything you _recognise_ ) belongs to J.K. Rowling. However, this entire story as a whole is dedicated to Anne B. Walsh, aka "whydoyouneedtoknow", whose _Dangerverse_ kept me in the Harry Potter fandom and whose slight alteration of the Dementors in her beautiful story _Be Careful_ , years later, enabled this story to actually GET WRITTEN past the start of Chapter Two... which is the point where I abandoned it ten years ago, when I found that I could no longer ignore the implications of the Dementors being able to _literally_ destroy a person's immortal soul. A great big thanks to her – and if you haven't read her stuff, go check it out!**

 **If you've come here because you liked my other story, be warned. My imagination only seems to have two modes: utterly ridiculous... and very dark, which I try to keep tamped down to avoid terrifying myself. In _Death's Horcrux,_ "ridiculous" had complete control. In _Dilemma's Horns_** _"_ **darkness" has the emphasis, although I can read it without scaring myself so hopefully you enjoy it too.**

 **And now that all that is said... onwards!**

* * *

 **Dilemma's Horns**

 _"Its skinny spires looked nothing like a bull's horns, but rather like those on a jester's cap. Or like the horns of a dilemma, Schmendrick thought: they never have just two." – The Last Unicorn, Peter S. Beagle_

 **Chapter One**

A single choice, a single turn left instead of right at the fork in the passage after temporarily losing the Dementors (he had no hope that it would be for long) on the fourth level, and he was faced with a situation where whatever he did was going to create problems. Padfoot took a disbelieving step closer, toenails scraping on ice-sheer granite, staring.

The boy was young, possibly fifteen but certainly no older; far too young to have been thrown in Azkaban even at his age. The idea of his having been there for quite some time was technically ludicrous, but Sirius was in no mood to laugh. Ludicrous idea or not, it was pitifully obvious that the child had been. The emaciation. The tangled, matted hair. The constant trembling even with no Dementor in range. The old yet raw pain in the eyes. Most disturbing of all was the sanity smouldering there, being clung to as the only lifeline in a sea of nightmare. Sirius knew that the same battle between darkness and truth could be seen in his own eyes, and he was sure that there was no such fight in the eyes of the other inmates. Whatever the boy was imprisoned here for didn't matter because he was also innocent of it, and as he raised his head and looked straight at Padfoot for the first time before dropping his gaze to the ground again, Sirius knew that abandoning him to Azkaban was not an option. He grasped the bolt with his teeth and pulled. Expediency be damned. He'd take the logistical nightmare this was sure to become over not ever being able to look himself in the face again.

Padfoot's hackles rose as he placed one paw inside the cell, and he risked a low whine to attract attention. The boy looked up again, and then managed to stand up – barely able to catch himself on the wall to avoid falling. He began to stumble towards Padfoot, who backed away and glanced down the passage. Mist was forming. The torches along the wall went out, and it was suddenly colder. As the Dementors drifted into view from both ends of the passage, the boy's fingers grasped Padfoot's scruff and pulled him close. Sirius didn't pull away. There was no way that either of them could get past now that the Dementors were three ranks deep; if touching him comforted the boy somewhat, it was better than nothing. He licked the boy's face, trying to apologise as the boy shrank against him, flinching from the putrid, grasping hands.

It was the close contact that let him feel the sharp shudder of power, of magic against all odds, flaring up, and it took only an instant for Sirius to realise that the boy had no control whatsoever over it. No controlled magic ever brought on a spasm, and the boy's body was on the ground and jerking out of control, his eyes incredibly blank and staring inward. Sirius was suddenly sideswiped by a cacophony of voices screaming and sobbing without pause, his mind almost breaking with a ghastly certainty that these voices, whoever's memory they were, did _not_ belong to the boy. The Dementors instantly fled.

 _What in the world was **that**? _Sirius shook his head and staggered to his feet, blinking rapidly to clear his doubled vision. _If it were under control I'd guess Legilimency, but that – horror – was not under control. Far from it. If I'd been hit full-on it would have torn me to shreds... oh no. Oh, Merlin. If his instinctual magic's taken the form of Legilimency and the Dementors drove it wild... no, Padfoot, don't think like that, it **has** to be something else. It has to be. And whatever it is we can't stay here to figure it out. _He looked over. The boy was in no shape to stand, although he was trying. Padfoot grasped the ragged robes in his teeth and pulled him half across his back, and after a moment, he felt the boy's arms close around his chest. The stairs were difficult, but with the boy pushing as hard as he could and Sirius straining likewise, they finally managed to scrabble up into the sunlight. Faint as it was, it was stronger than any light that ever entered the underground dungeon of Azkaban, and both escapees felt a faint twinge of strength for the long swim ahead.

* * *

Sirius tried to get a handhold on the slick rocks and the boy – whose name he still didn't know – grabbed at him from slightly higher, missing his hand but catching his robe... which promptly tore, sending Sirius sliding back into the surf. A seagull _yark_ ed overhead and wheeled above them, making them both jump. Sirius swallowed a large mouthful of water, gagged, and cursed. Both of them were bone-cold and the weather was not helping – it was pouring with rain and they could barely see a foot in front of their faces. They wouldn't be able to see any pursuit until it was too late. On the other hand, the pursuit wouldn't be able to see them very well either. The boy managed to grab Sirius on the second try and somehow they managed to get out of range of the waves, huddling on the leeward side of an overhanging rock and trying to wring some of the water out of their robes.

"Who..." Sirius could hardly hear the boy's voice over the wind, and it'd dissolved into a fit of coughing before any more words could get out.

"Sirius Black." He felt a raw scratching in his own throat. "You?"

"Elen."

Sirius blinked. _I thought I had a strange name._

Elen curled up against him, too cold even to shiver. Sirius massaged his throat. A single question blurted its way out.

"What the hell were you locked up for?"

"I..." Elen hesitated and looked thoughtful, but the look passed straight into confusion. "He said... a mother... father? – um... Vol-something... _crazy..._ "

Sirius froze at the syllable. _Merlin's beard...Voldemort. And this means that I was right, it almost certainly **is** Legilimency, he's inherited the talent, and I've never wanted so much to have been wrong in my entire life..._

"Sirius?"

"Voldemort." He sighed and put his arms _it's not his fault_ stiffly around Elen _and if I say it often enough I might believe it_ and tried to keep his gut reaction – to shove Elen as far away from him as possible – under control _._ "This is bad. This is very, very bad."

 _You saw his eyes, Padfoot. He's nothing like Voldemort._

 _Oh yeah? He's inherited the mind-magic – what else has he inherited?_

 _Shut up. Dumbledore has mind-magic too, and he's hardly evil incarnate._

 _The sadistic traits? The love of torture?_

 _Or saving me from the Dementors when they had us cornered and pulling me up the rocks, not to mention how he's curled up against me. We're a team of sorts, and if you don't like it you can stuff off._

 _You'll never convince Harry of anything if you have the son of his parents' murderer in tow..._

 _Well, if we're talking **families** I hardly have a hope anyway. Give him a chance at least. He's obviously never been given one before!_

 _Suit yourself..._ The voice laughed softly and fell silent.

"Sirius...?"

Sirius closed his eyes, tempted to break into hysterical laughter. _I don't believe this. He doesn't know who Voldemort **is**. Sweet mother of Merlin – how on earth could he not **know**? And more to the point... how do I tell him without him freaking out? _

"You don't know?" _Strategy: buy time._

"No."

Sirius sighed. _So much for that bright idea, and I don't think there **is** a way to say this tactfully. _"Voldemort is a near-immortal megalomaniac. He's killed more people than you could count..."

Elen was starting to shake his head. Sirius continued quickly but tightened his grasp as a precaution.

"...tried to take over Britain about twelve years ago. Imagine the worst person you can and then multiply it by about a thousand, and you'd be about halfway there. Maybe."

Elen tried to yank loose. "No!" He struggled for a few moments, and then bit Sirius in the arm, hard. Sirius released his grip out of pure shock, and Elen scrambled away. "No, no, no, _no_..."

Sirius transformed and gave chase. _Obviously not at all like Voldemort. You can't count the bite – he was trying to get away, not trying to hurt me. Anything smart to add now, O Voice Of Blinkered Wisdom? No, I didn't think so. So you can just stay right out of my head from now on!_

 _Elen!_

* * *

Padfoot pinned Elen not far from where they had been. He wagged his tail and licked Elen's hair and tried to be as gentle as possible. _I don't hate you. You're a child and you cannot be held responsible for anything he's done._

Elen was calming down, and he tried to get up. Sirius moved off him and transformed back, but grasped Elen's wrist, preventing him from standing. _Do not run off again, please._

"You're nothing like him." He was glad to hear that he sounded convincing. "Voldemort wouldn't have reacted like that. Not a chance."

"Sorry..."

"For what?"

Elen looked at the bleeding marks his teeth had left in Sirius' arm.

"Oh, that. Don't worry about it. I've had worse bites."

Elen's eyes gleamed, making him look slightly sinister. The raised eyebrow didn't help dispel the impression. "Often?" He tilted his head towards the sea, and Azkaban.

"Oh, yes." He paused for a moment, and smiled wolfishly, with bitter humour. "No, this is my very first jailbreak. Come on – they'll know we're gone by now, and if we want to avoid pursuit..." He got to his feet, and sighed. "Can you control it at all?"

Elen used Sirius to pull himself up by. He was shaking. "What?"

"What you did to... them. Back... there."

A moment of sheer panic. "I didn't do anything!"

 _Oh..._ Sirius mentally censored the long list of swearwords that had blossomed in his mind ... _so very much_ _not good. His first fully-coherent sentence is almost the most horrifying thing he's said so far._

"Come on."

 _I need a wand. I need a wand to Apparate us both out of here really, **really** fast. If he fells the pursuit it'll enrage the whole Ministry – assuming they're not as pissed off as they possibly could be **already**... there's a town up ahead; it's night-time; if we stick to the shadows... does his magic work on humans or just Dementors?... what on earth will I do if he fells anyone and everyone within range? Merlin forbid..._

As if to prove this final fear true, Elen stopped nervously at the first corner of suburbia, hesitating to emerge from the rocks. The street was dead calm except for a man walking his dog very quickly under a large umbrella, almost out of sight at the far end, and there was no light coming from any houses, but Elen was still skittish. Sirius stopped.

"Elen, in this rain nobody would notice us if we were waltzing together down the street wearing pink bathing suits. _Frilly_ ones." The absurdity startled a faint laugh out of Elen, which Sirius found reassuring, but he didn't look away from the far-off man. Sirius glanced over. "Besides, he's not looking this way." Technically unable to be proven one way or the other, but it was a fifty-fifty chance. "The sooner we get what we need, the sooner we can leave. Merlin knows I'm not looking forward to this either." He took Elen's hand. "Come on."

Elen dug his feet in, rigid.

"Look..." Sirius tilted Elen's head towards him so he could look directly into his eyes. "Odds are there's a..." he bit off the word _wizard_ "... _somebody_ living here who... has the means... to get us out of here fast. We have to get out of here, so we have to go in." _And I only hope that I can disable the poor sod before you do._

Finally, finally, Elen began to move, but his grasp was so tight that Sirius began to lose sensation in his fingers. He kept very close and Sirius decided to withdraw his hand before it became utterly useless in favour of putting his arm around Elen's shoulders. Elen's nervousness and extreme jumpiness were putting _him_ on edge, and whenever Elen glanced around sharply, startled by another stray cat or garage light, Sirius found himself going into a defensive crouch. _Merlin_. _Is absolutely everything strange to him? Don't answer that._

The voice ignored him. _Yes, most likely. How much would you remember if you were him?_

 _Shut up._

"Sirius...?" Elen hissed.

"We're looking for anything odd. Fairies, gnomes, a chimney with green smoke, purple carrots..."

Elen looked at him sidelong and then turned to look around for odd items, but Sirius strongly suspected that his sanity was being doubted. _He might have a point there... wait. What's that?_

"Yes. Here we are. Apple and grape in fruit at the same time – on the same _tree,_ even – equals wizard."

Elen whirled. " _What?_ No. No. Sirius..." He pulled back on his arm, trying to stop him going in.

"Elen. Nothing's going to happen – we're going to go in, get what we need, and go out again. Nobody's going to interfere." _Because either I will stop them or you will half kill them. Best case scenario is that nobody's home at all, all things considered..._ "Trust me." He dragged Elen across the lawn and into the alcove by the back door. When they were fairly well hidden, he pulled a length of wire out from a rose trellis and began picking the lock, while Elen kept watch against people, bats, backfiring car engines and trees.

 _I am going to **have** to teach him to be slightly less jittery._

"We're in," Sirius hissed as the lock gave way. "Look for wands, food, blankets, anything, and stay close..."

Nobody was home. _Thank Merlin_. On the other hand, it meant no wand – they'd just have to take what they could get. A rapid search turned up half a loaf of bread, one spare blanket in bright pink, a pale pink fluffy cardigan with frolicking kittens embroidered on the collar, several sets of neon pink robes which Sirius vetoed on sight as being far too visible, a small apple pie brushed with pink glazing – _why on earth? –_ and a lurid pink pot of Floo powder.

Sirius looked dubiously at the cardigan. "I think we might leave that." He pulled Elen down into a crouch beside him and wrapped the blanket around both. _I never imagined so much pink_. _This person has absolutely no taste._ "Eat now, as much as you can." _The Floo powder's going to be our best bet, and if we go to Grimmauld – curses! – we should be able to tangle the trail if my late unlamented mother didn't change the keywords..._

Neither of them could eat very much; the pie remained untouched. Sirius put everything back approximately where they'd found it – _might as well try to hide that we've been here_ – and then threw some Floo powder on the fire. It flared green, as high as a man, and Elen leapt backwards with a startled cry and fell over.

 _I should have known. Naive of the world to the nth degree..._

"It won't hurt, I promise. I'm going through with you – if you get burnt, so do I."

Elen backed away, alternating between looking nervously at the flames and looking nervously at Sirius. He hesitated, and came slowly towards Sirius again, and then to within reach.

The front door opened, and Sirius reacted instantly, yanking Elen off his feet and sprinting for the fire. Elen twisted in his arms and buried his face in Sirius' shoulder as the fire flared green about them and they were gone, barely an instant before the curse hit the back of the fireplace where they had been a moment earlier.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Sirius stumbled as they were expelled from the fireplace and almost fell. Elen was rigid in his arms. _I did not just hear what I thought I heard._ He placed his left hand on the smoothest stone in the hearth and tried to remember the incantation he needed. _Got it... I hope._ " _Summon_... no, that's not it. _Summum nigrum anguis_." His voice was shaking as the fire flickered rapidly from green to black to green and then went deep blue and extinguished, and he smoothed Elen's hair in an attempt to reassure himself. _A Death Eater who looks like a toad with a predilection for pink and who has a quick hand at the Cruciatus curse. Merlin. It answers the question about whether Elen's magic affects humans, I suppose. Or at least amphibians. Elen, what did you_ _ **do**_ _to her?_

 _And, while we're on the subject, how come it didn't hit me?_

Elen was clinging to him like a much younger child, staring around. Then again, the house was designed to be emphatically unwelcoming. Dust and decay coated every surface, and there was some sort of stinking infestation in the rotting curtains. The expensively-framed eyeballs placed just above eye level were enough to give the most settled person in the world a horrible feeling of being watched. The proud and dusty display of daggers in the cabinet in the far corner raised suspicions about exactly how the eyeballs had been removed, particularly since not all of them had been cleansed of blood. The even-prouder-and-no-less-dusty display of poison bottles on the next shelf up were labelled only with diagrams of what each poison did – in explicit detail. The moth-eaten tiger-skin rug that Sirius had fallen over was dragging itself into the corner in a huff.

 _This place hasn't changed one single bit._

"Well, Elen, I bid you welcome to the noble and most ancient House of Black, and it looks like it's been getting blacker every day since I left. War shall be waged if we are ever to get off this" he looked down "utterly disgraceful maggot-infested excuse for what was apparently once a carpet." He felt Elen beginning to relax slightly, and continued, hoping for a laugh. "Gloves! Mops! Brooms! Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover! Fuming alligator!"

" _What?_ "

* * *

In the end, there was no alligator. Sirius got the water in the kitchen sink to run by virtue of swearing at it and a few well-placed kicks; Kreacher fortunately encountered Elen while Sirius was in the room, meaning that Sirius immediately ordered him _never_ to attack Elen and to bring Sirius _immediately_ if Elen's magic acted up, and threatened him with disembowelment if he disobeyed, prompting Elen to lock himself in the second-floor bathroom until Sirius could convince him through the door that he hadn't actually meant it the way it sounded; the portrait of Mrs Black opened her curtains to scream in Elen's face on the second day, but she'd shut up in consternation when Elen collapsed into spasm on the carpet (Kreacher had promptly fetched Sirius, who'd icily ignored her renewed screaming and carried Elen into the dining room to recover); and they both kept away from the windows. Elen also avoided the drawing room, although he couldn't explain why when Sirius asked. And Sirius had buried his head in his hands when he'd discovered Elen having an amused conversation with a rattlesnake that had been painted into the portrait of his great-great-great uncle, who had looked over at him and beamed, effusively praising him for allying himself with the Heir. Elen had immediately tried to deny it and Sirius had removed the picture from the wall to stop it visiting the portrait of Phineas Nigellus and betraying them both. He'd then forbidden Elen to talk to any more snakes. But there was no alligator, even though Elen kept a watchful eye out for it. There was, after all, almost everything else.

It was the evening of the fifth day, and Sirius had managed to dredge up enough memories of blood magic ritual to reactivate low-level wards on the house even without a wand. He'd already given advance instruction to Kreacher that if the wards went off, he was to take them both immediately to a particular cave above Hogsmeade, barricade the entrance with elf magic, and then stay with them and make no noise at all. Kreacher, of all things, was the last-ditch-escape plan. Therefore, he did not want to have to use it. Not only because being stuck in a cave with Kreacher was (on his list of least-preferred places) only slightly above being locked in a cell two doors down from his mad cousin Bellatrix, Kreacher had also taken to following Elen around, putting him on edge and slyly finding loopholes even when directly ordered to _leave him alone_.

 _What is wrong with that elf, anyway? Aside from the obvious. It's almost as if he_ _ **wants**_ _something from Elen..._

"Sirius? Why were you... _there_?"

Sirius swallowed his mouthful of sandwich. _I was wondering when you'd trust me enough to ask that. You've been looking that question at me for two days now._ "They think I murdered thirteen people. I didn't do it, of course, and if they'd bothered to give me a _trial_..." His voice was bitter. "Wormtail framed me for the betrayal and murder of my two best friends and their son, Harry, who survived. He'd be a little younger than you, now..." Sirius trailed off with a grimace, blinking back tears. "And then when I tracked him down he shouted out that I'd betrayed the Potters and then blew up the street... twelve dead, thirteen including him, fifteen including James and Lily... but Wormtail's still alive." He smiled grimly. "For now."

Elen blinked, amalgamating. "You broke out of prison to... murder somebody..." He shuddered and stood up sharply, backing quickly away as Sirius also stood and came near. When Sirius reached out, Elen dodged and ran to the door, but hesitated in the doorway when Sirius slowly backed away, holding the palms of his hands where Elen could see them.

"You don't need to be afraid, Elen..."

"What do you want with me?" Elen's shoulders went back; his eyes darkened into frightened stubbornness; and his voice started to shake. "I am _not_ helping you to murder anyone!"

"And I can't leave you alone – you wouldn't last ten minutes without killing somebody." Sirius' voice was gentle and determinedly reasonable. This did not make the slightest bit of difference.

" _I am not Voldemort!_ " Elen slammed the door and ran up the stairs as every single portrait started to scream. _I will risk that homicidal clock if it keeps him away from me. I have nowhere to go to escape them, so I can't escape him, but I will try. As soon as it's dark, I will try. I will_ _ **never**_ _help him to murder._

Downstairs in the dining room, Sirius frantically analysed the conversation for a fifth time and suddenly swore. _How could I have been so stupid?_ He buried his face in his arms. _So now he basically thinks that_ _ **I'm**_ _Voldemort, to kill willingly and with pleasure, but he still trusts me just barely enough to_ _ **not**_ _shred me limb from limb with that savage magic of his. That one bit of idiocy probably just used up every last bit of the trust I gained from rescuing him in the first place._

 _Well, better make sure he can't leave before we get this sorted out. Bad decisions get made when people are as scared as Elen is right now._

"Kreacher! Come here!"

* * *

It was after dark when Kreacher reported that Elen was trying to get out of the fourth-floor master bedroom via the window. He'd willingly volunteered to watch Elen silently and secretly, which had taken Sirius by complete surprise, but after wary consideration hadn't seen any harm in it once he'd ordered Kreacher to not let him leave the room and not to hurt him. _If Kreacher decides to_ _ **like**_ _Elen it might make our stay here a whole lot easier. Although for the life of me I cannot figure out what is drawing Kreacher to him. It's not Mastery, because Kreacher won't obey him. He simply seems to wish to watch Elen. I hope it's harmless, but I have a funny feeling that it's not. Still, he can't go against my direct orders, and I don't think I left any loopholes big enough for Kreacher to betray us..._

Locking Elen in was not a step that Sirius had enjoyed taking, but he was glad of it now, particularly since the window was the first thing that Elen had tried. _If he'd wanted to talk it over, he would have tried the door first._ He sighed. _But I can't leave him there alone. I can't. Locking him up is just going to bring back horrific memories, and there's no way Azkaban's going to help the situation._ He climbed the stairs, entered the corridor, dodged the grandfather clock's attacks, and slipped in through the door (which let him in without hesitation).

Elen darted from prising at the window to hiding under the bed before Sirius finished shutting the door.

 _This is going well already._

"Elen?" Sirius crouched down and looked. Elen was huddled in the far corner, against the wall. His eyes focused on Sirius briefly, before he twisted away with a shudder and pushed himself still further into the corner, scraping blood.

"Elen, please listen to me... I _never_ meant... Elen, it's twelve _years_ I've been locked up, do you understand? And now I know where he is, and I can stop him from killing again! Harry's in danger, Elen – my friends' son, my _godson_ , Wormtail will kill him if there's even the slightest hint of Voldemort coming back!" He edged slightly closer as Elen snuck a quick glance in his general direction.

"Elen... he doesn't deserve to live. But I would _never_ ask you to help me kill him. You don't have it in you."

Elen suddenly laughed, and the hairs on Sirius' neck stood up. The laugh was humourless and more than half mad, and ended on a sob. "Liar."

Sirius kept calm with a massive effort, biting back his fright. _No child should ever laugh like_ _ **that**_ _._ He crawled under the bed, looking Elen straight in the eyes. "I am not lying. Why do you think I'm lying?" _And if you insist you are capable of cold-blooded murder,_ _ **I**_ _shall laugh like that. Even in this mood, you're incapable of it._

Elen spat straight into his face and curled up in a foetal position, desperately protecting himself. "Go _away!_ "

For one moment, Sirius was sorely tempted to do exactly that. But the next moment, he'd reconsidered. _He's scared to death, he's been tortured, he has nobody to turn to and nowhere to go, he's locked in here which certainly can't be helping, he's thinking I don't know what, and he's still brave enough to flatly refuse to do something he considers abhorrent._ Instead of leaving, he transformed and lay down, aiming carefully, blocking Elen into the corner with no way of escape but also deliberately facing away from him, radiating "I am no threat" as strongly as he possibly could. _I will lie here for as long as it takes, Elen. Harry isn't even at school yet. I have time._

 _Just tell me what you're thinking. We'll get through it if you'll only just let me in._

* * *

After a full two hours, there had only been marginal improvement. Namely, that Elen had given up trying to get past Sirius but also was no longer clawing and kicking at him. Sirius hadn't dared retaliate. _Padfoot's so much stronger than him; if I fought back, I'd probably break a bone. I do not want to beat him into submission._ So he'd simply borne it silently until a kick had caught his ribs at a tender angle and he'd let out a yelp. Elen had instantly stopped fighting, but flinched away whenever Padfoot tried to touch him.

 _If he could get away without injuring me, he would do so in a heartbeat. Since he can't, he's no longer trying. He's just as afraid of me as he has been for the last four hours, but he shies instinctively from causing pain. How in all the worlds did Voldemort – Mister I Am A Sadist, basically – manage to father a child like this?_

 _Incidentally, I wish I knew for sure why that thrice-blasted Legilimency of his isn't lashing out. I've scared him quite enough to have it explode in my face, but it hasn't. Not that I'm complaining! I'd just really love to know what button_ _ **never**_ _to push, and also just where that button_ _ **is**_ _. Let's see... the Dementors pushed it and it forced a terrible memory of somebody else's onto them in a way they couldn't handle. Dolores Umbridge pushed it and it locked her inside a maze of nightmares with no key and it took out two Healers as well, although the Healers actually recovered after a few days; according to the_ Prophet, _she's comatose in St Mungo's and not leaving anytime soon because it's so sensitive that nobody dares risk trying to help her any more. And that bloody painting of my charming mum set it off by scaring him half to death, and without a living target it backlashed on him... but that time didn't hit me either! How am I not pushing it? Why is that instinctual, savage mind-magic not activating around me?_

 _Maybe it's because Elen saw all of those as acute threats, and doesn't see me as one. No, that can't be it. Elen definitely thinks I am an acute threat at this very moment. Bugger. What on earth is different about this situation?_

 _I must be missing a piece of the puzzle. A_ _ **corner**_ _piece. There's something really important that I'm just not seeing. Oh well. Take my good luck when it comes and sort out the why later, I guess. Padfoot's gotten about as far as he's going to get and Elen's at least marginally calmer. Time to turn human again, and try to talk to him._

As Padfoot vacated the space under the bed, Elen started to move in the other direction but quickly aborted the motion when Sirius transformed back. Sirius lay down on his stomach so he could see under the bed, but made no attempt at all to close in on Elen. _Being spat on again is not a good way to start a reasonable discussion._

"Elen, Harry's _everything_ to me; he's all I have left of James. If he dies because I didn't even try to stop Wormtail, I could never forgive myself. So Wormtail has to die. Do you understand?"

Elen didn't even look at him. "No! If you murder him then you're a murderer and you'll destroy everything, and if I _help_ you..." He shuddered. "And if I _let_ you... Sirius, I am NOT Voldemort and I would so last ten minutes without killing somebody!" He took two shaky breaths, then cautiously raised his gaze to meet Sirius'. "And you aren't Voldemort either, or you would have killed me by now. Wouldn't you?"

Sirius nodded without even the slightest hesitation. "Yes. Yes, he would have killed you by now, and even if he needed you alive for some terrible reason he would _definitely_ have hurt you badly and you'd _definitely_ be tied up as well..."

"Stop!" Elen shuddered and began to cry silently, burying his head against his knees and reflexively rubbing at the deep scars encircling his wrists. "Stop..." His voice trailed off into a whisper.

Sirius quickly crawled under the bed and pulled Elen into his arms. _Way to go, Black. Too much, too fast, and thoroughly tactless. You_ _ **knew**_ _about those scars. You've got them too._ "Shhh, Elen. I'm really sorry... look, you're okay, I'm right here and we're both safe... shhh..." He tried to pull Elen out into the room, but immediately stopped when Elen started struggling. _I guess we are going to stay under the bed._ He followed Elen's retreat, taking him in his arms again. "Hush, Elen. Hush. You're okay, you're safe now..."

"Sirius..." Elen's voice was soft and strained. "Don't murder Wormtail, please don't. Save Harry. Save him. But don't murder Wormtail. Please." His silent crying became painful sobs. "You can't be Voldemort. You _can't._ "

Sirius closed his eyes and let out his breath in a long sigh. _I am never going to be able to persuade him that killing Wormtail in cold blood is the right thing to do; he's near-hysterical even at the suggestion. His magic is far too savage and hair-triggered for me to be able to leave him and do it anyway; it'll destroy anyone who threatens him, and given that we're both escaped prisoners anybody who_ _ **sees**_ _him is going to threaten him. I can't lock him up because he'd never cope; it'd lock him back inside Azkaban. And I cannot lie to him, because if I lose his trust entirely, I don't want to imagine what will become of him._ He thought frantically, but couldn't see any way out of it. _There's only one option open, and we will have to make it work._

"I promise not to kill Wormtail unless he's immediately threatening Harry's life." He hugged Elen to him. "I _promise._ We'll figure it out." _Oh, that little logistical nightmare I foresaw the moment I realised there was a child locked in that hell on earth? Bring it_ _ **on**_ _._

Elen let out a shuddering breath, curling into him, looking exhausted and stressed. "Okay." He let Sirius draw him out from under the bed and leaned against him, rubbing his eyes. "Does Harry know that Wormtail's after him?"

Sirius blinked, looking slightly stunned. "Uh... no. I guess that would be Step One."

* * *

Kreacher withdrew from the room, disgusted. _The brat is too vulnerable. The Horcrux would take him and use him to destroy Kreacher, and Kreacher would fail Master Regulus. Kreacher has waited fifteen years. Kreacher can wait until the brat is strong._


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

Harry was not enjoying his summer holidays. Of course, this was a completely normal and reasonable state of affairs – the Dursleys were enough to spoil anybody's good mood, about anything, and Aunt Marge was just the icing on the cake. It was the worst birthday present he'd ever had, and there had been several shockers. Uncle Vernon's old socks were high on the list. So were the two times he'd got on Dudley's nerves and had been locked in his cupboard for the entire day. Uncle Vernon had even wished him a happy birthday. Both times. And Aunt Petunia had made him a birthday cake, which the Dursleys had then eaten all of. Both times. But Aunt Marge on a week-long visit... it was three days through, and he'd been thinking for the past two-and-a-half that he'd prefer to be locked in the cupboard. No Hedwig; she was fending for herself while Aunt Marge was visiting. No letters; Ron and Hermione knew not to contact him until at least next Wednesday, just to be safe. No homework, even... meaning he'd have to do it later, but the chance of visiting Hogsmeade was too important to pass up, and for Uncle Vernon to sign his form meant no magical ANYTHING for the duration of the visit. Which was why Harry found himself looking back with nostalgia at the cupboard. At least there he didn't have to listen to Aunt Marge. She'd passed up the opportunity to watch reality television with the Dursleys for the sake of keeping a close eye on him while he cooked dinner to make sure he stayed in the kitchen. This was because of something that had happened the evening before Aunt Marge had arrived.

When he'd seen the lead news article about the escaped convicts and heard the name Riddle, he'd stared at the screen as if he were Dudley, unable to tear himself away from it. _There's MORE of him?_ Riddle looked a lot like the seventeen-year-old memory who'd nearly killed him with a basilisk at the end of the previous year, except where Tom had looked greedy and arrogant and powerful, this _Elen_ had looked frightened and ill, far too thin, staring past the camera at something terrible that only he could see. He'd also looked really, really _young_ – even younger than the memory. _Well, Voldemort was probably evil incarnate at the age of two. Why should his spawn be any different?_ After that shock, the name and face of Sirius Black hadn't even really registered. Harry had only come back to himself when his uncle had cuffed him so hard in the back of the head that he'd been sent flying into the sofa. Dudley had laughed himself silly. Marge, when Uncle Vernon had told her about Harry's latest bout of utter disrespect, had sneered and expressed the opinion that if psychos like that were going to break out of prison, the least they could do was to snatch him off the street and spare the Dursleys all the effort and expense of raising him. Since then, Marge had taken it upon herself to make sure Harry was kept busy and downtrodden and above all, not watching the news.

Still, only four more days of Aunt Marge and then he'd have the permission slip signed and could have Hedwig back and find out all about Riddle and Black from a wizard source. _Because they're obviously wizards. There's no way that a Muggle criminal would have_ _ **that**_ _surname and look that much like Tom._

Three screams from the lounge where the Dursleys were watching television, followed by a loud yell of "BOY!"

Harry sighed, set the timer for the pot roast, removed the water from the hob, hung the dishcloth up tidily, measured out two cups of peas and replaced the frozen peas in the freezer, ignored Aunt Marge's sniffs about how a worthless waste of space such as Harry should always jump to do the bidding of his betters, walked calmly from the kitchen into the lounge, and stopped dead.

The large owl that had been fighting to get through the closed door between the lounge and kitchen swooped at him and alighted gently on his shoulder. It was carrying a letter and an untidy brown paper parcel.

Harry looked at Vernon. _Well, I'm supposed to be being normal._ "Is there a problem, Uncle Vernon?" _There. Normal AND polite._

Vernon was rapidly turning purple. "You know perfectly well what's wrong, freak! You get that letter and that parcel and you give them to me NOW and then you get out and take that bloody OWL with you!" He loomed up from his chair. "NOW, boy, or you'll feel the back of my hand, freak or not."

Harry lifted his arm to defend himself; the owl launched itself into the air with a screech – mirrored by Aunt Petunia – and dove at Vernon with talons bared. Vernon leapt back and fell over the coffee table, and the owl returned to Harry and began preening his hair. Harry smiled, instantly forming a plan. _If he's going to throw me out, I might as well go out in style. And since Hogsmeade's clearly off the table, I have nothing at all to lose._

"You were saying, Uncle Vernon?" _And after I kill whoever sent this owl for having the rottenest timing in the history of the universe, I'm going to bring them back from the dead to congratulate them for at least picking one with spunk._ "I was under the impression that it was illegal to read other people's mail without their permission. In my world and in yours." _I don't actually have a clue whether it's illegal in my world, but he doesn't know that_. "How d'you fancy getting in trouble with _my_ sort?" He slid his other hand into his hoodie pocket and struck a casual pose, then half-turned as a thought struck him.

"By the way, Aunt Marge... the word is _wizard_. Not criminal, not freak, but _wizard_. As in, _magic._ "

Vernon regained his voice, having been mouthing incoherently for the last few minutes. "OUT!"

Harry laughed. "My thoughts exactly. Anywhere's better than here, lunatics after me or not. At least nobody expects me to treat Riddle and Black like anything but the _scum they are_." He whipped his Invisibility Cloak out of his pocket and pulled it over himself and the owl, vanishing entirely. The Dursleys, predictably, shrieked. Harry quickly tiptoed out the door and ran up the stairs before any of the Dursleys could collect themselves. He tore into his room, grabbed his trunk, emptied the space under the floorboard, claimed his mail from the owl and threw that in the trunk as well, adjusted the Cloak, kept his wand in his hand, and bumped his trunk down the stairs behind him. Vernon, having recovered enough to try to reassure Aunt Marge that she'd simply been hallucinating, was not helped in this by the sight of Harry's trunk bumping down the stairs, around the corner, and down the passage to the front door while being steered by nobody at all.

 _Get to Diagon Alley. Don't use underage magic and therefore avoid getting in trouble for using underage magic. And don't, whatever I do, get cornered by Voldemort Junior and his sidekick Black. Hmmm. Maybe I should disguise myself somehow. Dye my hair or something. Hide that bloody scar. And get hold of wizard newspapers – Muggles won't know anything – to find out what I can about Voldemort Junior and his sidekick Black so I won't be taken by surprise. I've had a pissed-off dark wizard after me every year since I turned eleven; having TWO of them after me this year, I think, is a step in the wrong direction._

 _Oh, yeah. And read that letter sometime, too. Who knows? Maybe it's from somebody who wants to help me survive._

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, Harry was ruefully thinking that he hadn't really thought things through. He was stranded in the middle of a Muggle village with a trunk he could hardly lift, an empty birdcage (the owl had flown away as soon as they were outside), a bag of wizard money which probably contained enough to buy every single bus in Surrey outright but certainly wouldn't buy a Muggle bus ticket, an Invisibility Cloak – currently hiding himself and his trunk – and a wand that he couldn't use without getting into serious trouble with the Ministry. His only mode of transportation was a broomstick, which would have been workable if it wasn't for the heavy trunk. And there were two psychopaths baying for his blood.

 _The only part of my plan that's workable right now is that post._ Harry dug the letter and parcel out of his trunk and tore the letter open.

 ** _Harry –_**

 ** _Cripes, where to start? Well, the package with this letter is a two-way mirror; it'll let us talk face to face. But read this letter first. Please._**

 ** _Your father asked me to take care of you if anything ever happened to him and Lily._** Here the writing was smudged, as if it'd gotten wet. ** _I haven't been very good at it so far. But here's hoping I can help you now, because you don't know the danger you're in._**

 _I have a fair idea_ , Harry thought.

 ** _If you're still at your aunt and uncle's, stay there. Dumbledore set blood wards so that no wizard who means you harm can get within ten miles of the place. But knowing Petunia, and therefore knowing something about whatever bloke was mental enough to actually marry her, and knowing both James' and Lily's tempers only too well – I remember the time Lily hung me upside-down from the rafters of Gryffindor Tower just to make me stay put to be yelled at, for example – I'm guessing you've completely lost patience and stormed out years ago, and the moment that happens the wards die. Don't beat yourself up about it – but get somewhere safe, NOW. The Leaky Cauldron has private rooms, but for pity's sake hide that scar of yours first; it's a dead giveaway. And don't let on that you're Harry Potter. There's somebody after you – Wormtail, one of Voldemort's Death Eaters – and the less anyone knows about where you are, the more trouble he'll have finding you. He betrayed your parents; he won't hesitate to harm you, particularly not now. And for Merlin's sake DON'T contact any of the Weasleys._**

 ** _Please use the mirror if you need me, or if you just want to talk, or for anything. Just say my name to activate it. The picture's all funny, I'm afraid, although I have made it better than what it started as. I tried it out with my friend recently and it was all eyes and teeth (and the inside of my left ear, but that was because I was trying to find the loose bit by shaking it beside that ear at the time)! I've never heard him laugh that hard. The mirrors haven't been used since shortly after your dad and I left school, and I don't have the tools to repair them; the best I could do was to get them really blurry. But the sound works fine._**

 ** _Padfoot_**

Harry read the letter again, then read it for a third time. "Say what?" He looked at the parcel, tossing up whether to risk it. _I'll just ask a nice general question about a safe mode of transportation to somewhere safe. I don't_ _ **have**_ _to take his suggestion of where._ He tore the package open and picked up the small, square mirror inside. _Do not let Voldemort Junior be on the other end of this thing._ "Padfoot."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

"Harry!" Sirius' hand trembled on the mirror. "Harry, are you all right? Are you safe? Where are you?"

Harry's voice came out warily from the blur in the mirror. "Are you Padfoot?"

Sirius' voice caught. "Yeah. Yes, I'm Padfoot. Are you _safe_?"

"I'm fine. How do I get me and my trunk from one place to another if I have a wand and a broomstick?"

Sirius blinked, thrown. "Apparate. No! No, you're too young for that, don't you dare even try it. Take the Knight Bus. And remember, don't give your name and hide that scar. Harry, please –"

"Where do I catch the night bus?"

"Oh. It's like... thumbing a lift. With your wand. Stick it out in the street and the bus'll appear."

"Thanks. Where's the off switch on the mirror?"

"Harry, please..."

"No offence, Padfoot, but I don't know you and there's a couple of psychopaths after me. Where is it?"

Sirius opened his mouth to protest that he was NOT a psychopath but caught himself just in time. "Say 'mischief managed', and blame your dad for that password." He pressed the surface of the mirror against his forehead as the blurry image of his godson swirled and went dark. "Harry... oh, Harry, you really need to trust me..."

* * *

Fifteen minutes later, when Elen had come back into the room and was attempting to cheer Sirius up, the mirror activated again. Sirius snatched it up the instant it chimed, pushing Elen aside.

"Harry. What do you need?"

The blur hesitated and glanced to the left. "Who's your friend?"

"My friend?" Sirius went cold. _Oh no. Elen's also been all over the news, Muggle and magical. What do I call him?_

Elen was also thinking frantically. _I need a name that sounds like it belongs with Padfoot; we can't have him questioning that name._

"My name is Starling. And you are Harry." Elen's voice was deliberately quiet. Sirius suspected that it was to keep Harry from noticing it trembling. "What did you need?"

"Um. I just wanted to thank you for telling me about the bus."

Elen looked pleadingly at Sirius, who caught the conversational ball, astonished that Elen had even picked it up in the first place. _Starling's a bloody strange name to pluck out of thin air, but at least I'm unlikely to forget it._ "You're welcome, Harry. Are you somewhere safe now?"

Harry nodded. "Yes, I'm safe, Padfoot." A long, awkward pause. "What do you know about Riddle and Black?"

Sirius choked. _Maybe we didn't think this through well enough._ Elen groped nervously for and found his hand under the table, looking at him with scared eyes; obviously the three sentences he'd already spoken were going to be his _only_ contribution to the conversation for the time being. _Merlin's deep-fried_ _ **beard**_ _, we are in trouble. Um. Strategy: stall him and wing it while he's talking._ "What do you know already?"

"They're wizards, they escaped from prison, they belong to Voldemort, and they want me dead. Black's a mass murderer and Riddle's – actually, I haven't quite figured out what he did. I grabbed a paper on the way in here, but it kept talking about somebody named Dorian Gray instead of Riddle himself for some reason. I didn't hear the Muggle news properly because he looks so much like Tom and it freaked me out –"

"Tom?" _Who the heck is Tom?_

"Tom Riddle. Voldemort's real name. His memory told me when it released the basilisk from the Chamber of Secrets last year and almost killed me... Starling, what's –?"

Sirius had reacted almost before Harry had spoken, skidding around the table to catch Elen, who had collapsed, clawing at his head, his wild magic roiling and sending his body rapidly into spasm. _It's not lashing out, but even I can see that's only because it doesn't have a target._ _Thank Merlin, thank Merlin that Harry is not physically here!_ "Starling, shhh, shhhhh, calm down, please calm down... hush..." He pulled Elen into his lap as he took a seat on the floor, holding Elen's wildly-jerking wrists firmly in one hand and stroking his head with the other. "Shh-hhh."

Harry was staring out of the mirror, appalled. "Padfoot? What's wrong with him?"

Sirius sighed and glanced up at the mirror. "Starling's been badly abused, Harry. His magic's still completely instinctual because he's never been taught how to use it, and it's turned savagely overprotective because he's almost never been around people who _don't_ want to hurt him. _That_ is what's trying to protect him from whatever's triggered it this time, and _this_ is what happens when it does. I'm immune, thank Merlin with all my heart for that, but nobody else would be safe." He turned back to Elen, then suddenly snapped his head straight up to stare at Harry, horrified. "You almost got killed by a _basilisk_ that Lord Snakeface's _memory_ set on Hogwarts last year?" Without looking, he caught Elen's left hand, which had slipped free and returned to his face, replacing it against Elen's right wrist and shifting his grip to restrain him completely. "What on earth's been going on there? Oh no, come on, Starling, hush, hush-hush. You're safe, remember? Come back. Shhhhhh. Harry. What _happened_?"

"Yeah, a basilisk," Harry said distractedly over Padfoot's attempts to soothe Starling, squinting at the fuzzy shapes in his mirror. _I didn't know that magic would go out of control if the wizard was abused, and now I wish I_ _ **still**_ _didn't know. That's horrific. Poor Starling..._

 _But they're obviously legit. No follower of Voldemort would ever call him Lord Snakeface – it just wouldn't occur to them and they'd never dare even if it did – and there's no way in the world that Voldemort or any of his followers would take care of someone as fragile as Starling the way that Padfoot's doing right now. They'd be more likely to spare themselves the trouble and just murder him._ "It's a long story and I'll tell you later. I'll just upset Starling if I stay, so after I go you can calm him down. He obviously trusts you if he's letting you hold him like that. Can you use the mirror to call me?"

Sirius looked up quickly. "Yes, but Harry, we _have_ to talk... you don't understand..."

"Padfoot, I'm fine. I'm safe. And I can wait. Starling needs you _right now_ and you can't help him if I'm distracting you. Call me back. _Mischief managed._ "

* * *

Harry was getting worried by the time the mirror chimed. _There is no way that Starling was in control of that – what if it hurt Padfoot somehow?_ But Padfoot seemed fine, if tired. "Harry, just –"

"Are you all right? And Starling?"

Padfoot broke off what he'd been going to say. "Yes, I'm fine. I was the one to rescue Starling from the abuse and he knows with every fibre of his being that I'd never hurt him. My best guess is that this made me immune to his magic because it doesn't see the need to protect him from me. He's asleep upstairs, completely exhausted. That was a bad fit because his magic didn't have a target to unleash on and therefore backlashed. But Harry, you have to listen to me, and _please_ hear me out, all right? It's going to sound insane, but I swear on my magic that what I am going to tell you is true."

"Okay…"

"You know how I told you not to contact the Weasleys? Well, this is why. Their rat is a Death Eater – Wormtail, the man I told you about. And he's been biding his time. He always was a little coward, but if he ever hears that Voldemort's regaining strength, you'll be dead."

"You're right." Harry almost laughed. _He may not follow Voldemort, but he's nuttier than five squirrels' stashes put together._ "It's completely insane. Scabbers is just a _rat_."

"Who's lived for at least twelve years. Harry, do you know how long rats live? _Four_ years. _Tops._ Even specially-bred wizarding varieties only live to seven or so. Besides, I recognised him."

"You recognised a rat." _Maybe Starling did some damage after all. Either that, or Padfoot never had a firm grasp on sanity in the first place_.

Sirius closed his eyes for a long moment. _This is not going well._ "Your dad and I were best friends all through Hogwarts – this is relevant, I promise – and there were two other Gryffindor boys in our year. There was Peter Pettigrew – Wormtail – and there was Remus Lupin, who was… who had a little problem. So we all became Animagi to help with that. Your father was a stag."

"You're an Animagi?"

"Animagus. Yes." Sirius transformed into Padfoot and lolled his tongue out, then turned back. "And Wormtail was a rat. _That_ rat."

 _This is still crazy. But if people can turn into animals…_ "So Wormtail's not his real name. Is Padfoot your real name?"

 _Shit. And I can't lie, not after that oath._ "It's my nickname. _Please_ , Harry, _please_ just listen."

 _Padfoot isn't Sirius Black. He can't be. He doesn't support Voldemort. And there's no way that Starling is Elen Riddle. Riddle's a leader, not a follower, and Starling depends heavily on Padfoot. The dynamic's completely off._ "I'm listening."

" _Thank you._ Well. After school, Lily and James knew that Voldemort was after them. He tried to recruit them and they told him to sod off, and you can imagine how well Voldemort took that one. So they went into hiding under the Secret-Keeper charm. Everyone thought I was the Secret-Keeper, but we switched, and nobody knew but me, Wormtail, and your parents. I was the decoy, but _he_ was the Keeper and _he_ was the spy and _he_ betrayed your parents to Voldemort, and then when I went after him he blew up the street… and I was arrested."

 _Oh, no. No. This cannot be happening._ "You're Sirius Black." _I don't believe this. I don't. He doesn't support Voldemort!_

Sirius bowed his head. "Yes. I am Sirius Black. But I didn't betray Lily and James, and I didn't kill anyone, Harry, I swear! I would have _died_ for James! I didn't betray him!"

 _I must be absolutely mental, but I actually believe him… almost._ "And Riddle just took advantage of your escape to slip out too?"

"What? No. Harry, we escaped _together._ Elen hasn't done anything! He didn't even know who Voldemort **_was_** when I rescued him. His best guess at why he was imprisoned, and I quote, was that he'd been locked up because 'Vol-something'… wait for it… was his _mother_."

Harry couldn't prevent himself from bursting out laughing at this, and he couldn't get control back for almost five minutes. Every time he thought he'd stopped, the mental image of Voldemort as a _female_ would set him off again. But then a realisation hit him.

"He _is_ Starling, isn't he?"

Sirius smiled. "Yes, Harry. Elen is Starling."

"You said Starling's magic was wild because he was abused."

Sirius went quiet and still. "Azkaban…" He shuddered all the way up his body and started the sentence again. "Azkaban…" He stopped, then determinedly started yet again. " _That place_ is hell on earth. It drives you mad, steals all your good memories, all your happiness, leaves you with _nothing_ but pain... Harry, only two people in thirty survive a five-year sentence; the Dementors' captives are often dead within three." A long pause as Sirius fought back broken sobs and forced himself to speak again, trying to hold his voice steady. "Elen was abused more cruelly than you could imagine, and if you tried it'd give you nightmares for the rest of your life."

Harry swallowed. Padfoot's bleak tone spoke of horrors more eloquently than his words did, and his words were harrowing enough. Suddenly, he remembered Hagrid's terror of Azkaban. _If the wizarding prison frightened_ _ **Hagrid**_ _that badly, then... okay, scratch that. I do not actually_ _ **want**_ _to know details about the level of abuse required to twist Riddle's magic into that out-of-control, savage fit I saw earlier tonight._

"So what exactly does his magic do when it _does_ have a target?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "That's the problem. Elen's inherited a powerful talent for mind-magic, and when Legilimency goes out of control... and he's got about as much control as a werewolf on full moon..." He ran his fingers through his hair. "It traps anybody threatening him in a mental maze of memories, and nightmares, and remembered pain, all jumbled together and feeding off each other, and _any_ of it is enough to completely disable almost anybody. It's only temporary if the threat's not acute, but if it _is_ – a horde of Dementors closing in, Dolores Umbridge trying to cast the _Cruciatus_ on us – Harry, I've never seen anything like it. It trapped Umbridge in a feedback loop and goodness only knows what it did to the Dementors..."

"Cruchi...?"

" _Cruciatus_." Sirius grimaced. "Torture curse. One of Voldemort's favourites. Agony beyond belief, like every pain you've ever felt, all at once, multiplied tenfold. After two seconds, it's hundredfold, and it just keeps getting more painful. It's one of the Unforgivables – using it even once gets you an automatic life sentence."

"Someone tried to use _that_ on _you_?" Harry leapt to his feet, furious. " _Why?_ "

"Harry, everyone thinks we're criminals. No repercussions for using _anything_ you care to in order to take us down. Or at least I'd wager that's what she thought." One side of Sirius' mouth pulled up in a dark half-smile. "As I said, Elen's magic reacted badly. We were only in the same place for less than half a second, but she's still comatose and Elen's maze of horrors temporarily incapacitates everybody who tries to Heal her as well. That's actually how I figured out the relationship between the threat level and Elen's reaction."

"That sounds dangerous." _Actually, it sounds worse than just dangerous._ Harry shivered. _I wouldn't want to be on the wrong side of that._

"It's potentially _lethal_ if he's threatened, and completely out of control, and if he killed somebody with it even in self-defence... Harry, he'd probably commit suicide; he wouldn't be able to live with himself _._ I don't dare to leave him. I have to protect him and protect everybody else _from_ him; at least until I can get him to the stage that he'll accept somebody teaching him control without destroying the teacher in blind panic. I'm hoping I can get Dumbledore on board, but that'll have to wait until Dumbledore doesn't think I'm a mass murderer, and goodness knows what he's going to make of Elen. He _had_ to know that Elen was locked up in Azkaban so I don't know whether I even dare to trust him, but there might not be a choice. I can't think of anyone else who knows Legilimency apart from Voldemort himself..."

Harry caught his breath. _He's serious. Voldemort's son would commit suicide if he accidentally killed somebody else even in self-defence? Somehow, I_ _ **have**_ _to stop thinking of him as Riddle._

"Sirius?"

"Yes?"

"Could you please keep calling him Starling?" Harry bit his lip. "It's really stupid, but whenever you call him Elen I immediately think Tom because that's what I thought when I first saw him on TV..."

Sirius' eyes filled with tears. "Of course we can keep calling him Starling." He smiled. " _Thank you_ , Harry. _Thank_ you."

"For what?"

"For listening. And for believing a story that sounded as crazy as mine had to have sounded. And for giving Starling a chance." He paused, then grinned. "But just one question. Do you always believe insane-sounding stories this easily?"

Harry laughed. "Give me some credit for sense! Of course not! I believe you're innocent because Voldemort's ego would never cope with a flunkie who casually called him Lord Snakeface, and because of that – and because nobody could ever _pretend_ to completely lose control of his magic and have it turn on him like what happened to Starling earlier – I trust you about him."

Sirius smiled, a full, true smile. "Oh, Harry. You are so much like your parents." Then he started to laugh. "Did I really call him that? I must have been having an off day. Voldemort... let's see. Lord Sorry, Who? The Ever-Mispronounced One. Sir Could Somebody Please Tell Me Which Alias We're Using _This_ Wednesday..."

The name-calling competition lasted just over twenty minutes before Sirius brought it back to topic. "Harry. Please write to Professor McGonagall about Wormtail. Tell her everything I've told you. She's an Animagus herself, and she's fair, if tough, so hopefully it'll solve our problem. Or at least _one_ of our problems." He sighed. "She'd recognise my handwriting _and_ my style in a heartbeat and would send it straight to the Aurors – which we can't afford to risk – and Starling's never used a quill before, not to mention he'd be so nervous of writing to a stranger that I'd have to dictate every word, which would completely defeat the point. Write it in your words. Say Remus Lupin told you – that's L-U-P-I-N – and you recognised Wormtail from his description and hope like anything that she doesn't realise I'm involved."

Harry stroked Hedwig, who had found him during the pause between the second and third conversations. "I'll do it right now, Padfoot. _Mischief managed._ "


	5. Chapter 5 (Part 1)

**Chapter Five: Part One**

Minerva McGonagall did sometimes receive letters from students over the summer holidays. Usually it was Hermione Granger asking about obsessively-detailed minutiae that she needed to get her assignment _exactly_ correct, and usually she had to look up the answers herself in at least six different books per answer. Hermione's questions were never simple or straightforward. _With Hermione Granger around, even were I inclined to let myself get rusty on Transfiguration theory, I would never manage to do it. I love it._ Occasionally a student – but more often their parents – would send her a Christmas card. Fred and George Weasley had sent her a singing scarf once, but had "forgotten" to tell her that it literally sang earworms. _I was winding them around my wand for three hours getting them out of my head again, and two-thirds of that was freeing myself from that infernal "Song that Never Ends", which was indeed the_ _ **never-ending**_ _earworm..._ But usually, students were so busy with their own families and friends that they completely forgot about school until the week before term began again, which meant that the standard of summer homework assignments was frequently abysmal. Of all the staff, she and Severus did best at inspiring the students to at least put in marginal effort over the long break: she because her approval was legendary, Severus because his detentions were infamous. Filius was a close third because he had the knack of getting his students to _like_ him. So to see Harry Potter's owl tapping on her window at three in the afternoon on a Sunday – Harry Potter, whose summer homework was always patchy, who had never written to a teacher, who often couldn't even write to his _friends_ due to his relatives, and who had two dangerous criminals after him this year – to see _his_ owl at _her_ window made her feel quite faint. She tore the window open and almost snatched the letter from Hedwig. _What's happened?_

 ** _Dear Professor McGonagall_**

 ** _I just found out something really disturbing. Remus Lupin told me about my dad and his friends_**

 _Remus Lupin? He's been in meetings with us all week planning for every eventuality to make sure the students are kept safe this year; when did he write to Harry and why didn't he tell us?_

 ** _and he described them. Professor, this is going to sound crazy, but could you please check out Ron's rat? My dad and his friends were Animagi,_**

 _Animagi? No they most certainly were not!_

 ** _and I think that Peter Pettigrew is Scabbers and that_** ** _he_** ** _betrayed my parents, not_** ** _###_** ** _Black. But I don't know how to prove it, and it's really important. Please?_**

 ** _Harry_**

Professor McGonagall read the letter again, beginning to grow very, very concerned. _It doesn't sound coerced. But it also doesn't quite ring true. And I can see what's under that scribble; Harry started to write "Sirius" and corrected himself. If Black's pretended to be Remus and subverted Harry I'll hunt him down and turn_ _ **him**_ _into a rat and let my Animagus form eat him, even if I have to vomit him back up again for the Dementors afterwards._

" _Expecto patronum_." The silvery cat blossomed from her wand and twined around her arm, whiskers forward and eyes half-closed in a blissful, silent purr. "Give this message to Remus Lupin: _Remus, please come to my office. Now._ "

Remus was in her office within two minutes, looking frazzled. "I keep finding signed portraits of Gilderoy Lockhart in the queerest places, blowing kisses at anybody who looks at them; how the students learnt anything at _all_... what is it, Minerva?"

Professor McGonagall held out the letter. "It's from Harry."

"Harry?" Remus took the letter gently and unfolded it, scanned the first two sentences and went white, balling the letter up in his fist. " _Black_."

Professor McGonagall sank down onto a tartan footstool. "So it wasn't you who told Harry about his dad's friends."

Remus shook his head and set his jaw, uncrumpling the letter with shaking hands. "What have you done with Harry, you- you-?" He read the rest of it and suddenly swayed on his feet. "You... oh, Sirius... no. No, this can't be true... you- you-" He began to laugh softly, hysterically, and then started to cry. "You _bastard._ You switched. You switched."

"Remus!" Professor McGonagall leapt up and caught him as his legs gave way. _There wasn't anything in that letter to make Remus react like this! I haven't seen him this upset since that awful Halloween twelve years ago._

Remus drew back from her, eyes shining with disbelieving, desperate hope. "Minerva. How long has Ron had his rat?"

Professor McGonagall felt as if she was standing still while the whole world spun out from under her. _He can't be serious._ "Are you saying that Sirius Black did **_not_** betray the Potters? That he's... that he's..."

"Innocent," Remus whispered, and buried his face in his hands. "Innocent. Oh, _Sirius_..."

Professor McGonagall felt hope begin to blossom, but then it shrivelled and died. "Remus, he can't be innocent. He helped Riddle escape. His magical signature was inside that cell – just barely, but still there. If he was innocent, he would never have..."

Remus looked inward, licking his lips as he thought. "If Sirius is innocent, he would never have taken... a criminal with him. A _criminal_. Minerva, Riddle's a convicted felon... but _what exactly is he supposed to have done?_ "

Professor McGonagall blinked. "I... don't know." _Surely not. Surely he can't have been locked up just for_ _ **existing**_ _... the Ministry would_ _ **never**_ _... oh, dash it all, Minerva, stop fooling yourself. Yes. They would._

Remus had come to the same conclusion, and asked another question, an even more horrifying one. "Minerva, how old is he?" His voice was shaking. _We've all been told again and again that he's another Dorian Gray, mentally manipulating people into seeing him as younger than he is, and that's incidentally about the most innocuous thing Gray ever did with that ability. But what if he's_ _ **not**_ _? What if Elen Riddle looks young because he_ _ **is**_ _young?_

"He's been in Azkaban for almost six years, but how old he is... I don't know." She frowned. "I've never taught him."

 _She's not seeing it._ "Minerva, he looks about sixteen – no, not even that. What if he _is_?" _And if he is, what have we done?_

Professor McGonagall's mouth fell open and she snapped it shut again, lips evening out into a thin line. "I know how we can find out how old he is. Follow me." She led him out of her study and up three flights of steps, round a corner, down a narrow staircase and through an even narrower door into a large room stacked floor to ceiling with bulging sheaves of parchment and inch-deep dust. "The Records Room. The full records of all students listed on the roll from the founding of Hogwarts. When they were born, and the date they were listed, whether they attended or not. Somewhere in here is Elen Riddle's name and birthdate. It's an unusual name; it shouldn't be difficult to find."

Remus rolled up his sleeves and began to systematically bespell the parchments to highlight the word _Elen,_ starting with the scrolls listing people who were now twelve. Minerva systematically bespelled the parchments to highlight the word _Riddle_ , starting with the scrolls listing people who were now forty. It only took them twenty minutes to find it.

"20 September 1978." Minerva sat down heavily in a cloud of dust. "He's almost fifteen. And... I don't believe what I'm seeing... Headmaster Dumbledore _himself_ wrote Elen off the roll in June 1987. _Six years ago_." She stared at Remus. "If we can't trust Headmaster Dumbledore..."

"... then I guess it's up to us," Remus finished, feeling cold. _I don't believe it either._ "We need to deal with Pettigrew, we need to free Sirius and Elen, and then we need to fix this. Somehow." _Not even nine years old and being tortured in Azkaban. And you knew about it. Why, Headmaster? Why? And I swear by Merlin himself, if I discover that you knew Sirius was innocent..._

Minerva took a deep breath and stood up, steeling herself. _I am a Gryffindor and a Head of House and no matter what happens I will not fail a friend, nor will I fail a child who needs help._ "We can't base this from Hogwarts. He's the Headmaster and it would get back to him. Key me into your wards; we'll go to your place."


	6. Chapter 5 (Part 2)

**Author's Note: Chapter Five got divided into two parts because I didn't want to strain everybody's eyes by forcing them to read half a chapter's worth of letters in bold italics. EVERY SINGLE WORD in this chapter is a letter. I'm just being nice to your eyes as far as the formatting goes. :-)**

* * *

 **Chapter Five: Part Two**

Sirius

I am so sorry. I looked at the photograph and it _is_ Pettigrew. Minerva's gone to Egypt. She's promised not to eat him.

Forgive me?

Remus

PS. Don't trust Dumbledore. We found out that Elen Riddle was thrown in Azkaban when he was eight, and Dumbledore knew about it. There's no excuse.

* * *

Harry

Message received and understood. Your parents would be very proud.

Professor Minerva McGonagall

PS. Are you with them? I tried to visit you on my way to collect Pettigrew and your aunt informed me rather sniffily that you'd run away.

* * *

Remus

There's nothing to forgive. You didn't know. You're my best friend, and that's not changing.

 _Eight?_ I wouldn't believe it if I hadn't already suspected, but I'd thought twelve at least, maybe because I didn't dare imagine younger. But we might have no choice about trusting Dumbledore anyway. Somebody needs to teach Starling how to control his magic. Unless you know somebody else who knows Legilimency.

Sirius

* * *

Sirius

Starling? And what do you mean, Legilimency? You're scaring me.

Remus

* * *

Dear Professor McGonagall

No, I'm not with Sirius. He says Starling's legal-something is far too dangerous. I'm staying at the Leaky Cauldron. They think I'm Dean Thomas.

Thank you for believing me.

Harry

* * *

Remus

Starling's his nickname. He chose it in a panic when Harry asked, before Harry knew me as anything but Padfoot, and it's kind of stuck.

 ** _Be_** afraid, Moony. It's as savage as an injured Quintaped, it's instinctual, and it's out of control. But I'm immune, so you don't have to worry about me.

Sirius

* * *

Sirius

We have Pettigrew. He's confessed to everything under Veritaserum and the Auror Office is in a royal state of shock. They've given you a _temporary_ stay of execution if you and Elen come in voluntarily.

The Weasleys all want to thank you personally for revealing the Death Eater in their midst. When you come to the Ministry, be prepared to be inundated by redheads.

Minerva

PS. I presume "Starling" is Elen's nickname?

* * *

Minerva

I can't Apparate without a wand but I have a way around that. However, Elen is coming to the Ministry over my dead body. And if they force the issue, probably theirs – and it won't be his fault. You do NOT want to see what wild Legilimency does.

Sirius

PS. Maybe I should just send a letter to _everybody_ saying that Elen's nickname is Starling. That's the second time I've had to write it in two days.

* * *

Minerva

I'm surprised at you. How could you endanger Harry like this?

Albus

* * *

Sirius

Wild Legilimency? Oh dear. I've heard of magic going wild before, but never mind-magic. Do you know what sets it off? We could possibly manage to avoid triggering it.

Minerva

* * *

Albus

I'll answer your question if you answer mine:

I'm surprised at you. How could you endanger Elen like this?

Minerva

attached: Official Hogwarts acceptance letter, nullified by Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

* * *

Minerva

I doubt it. When I said his Legilimency was wild, I meant it. It reacts to anything and everything that threatens him, and it's savage and overprotective and out of control.

Sirius

PS. Minerva. This is Elen. Please don't drag me into the Ministry. I'm scared of what I'd do. And I'm scared of you hurting me again. I am **_NOT_** going back.

PPS. Sirius again. That was unexpected – Elen just asked me if he could write something to you too. Could you try to reassure him? I'll do my best from this end.

* * *

Elen

You are never going back to Azkaban. _EVER_. I swear to you on my magic that if they even _try_ , I will tear the entire island apart to get you out. You are as safe with us as you are with Sirius, and nobody is going to hurt you. You have my word.

You have to face your fears sometime. We'll be right there with you, and we _will_ protect you, against half the Auror Corps if necessary.

Minerva

PS. For your first time using a quill, that was surprisingly legible.

* * *

Minerva

Sirius has been telling me repeatedly that I can trust you. Even without you swearing that oath. But every time I think about daring to go to the Ministry, even with Sirius there...

Minerva, I _can't!_ You can't protect everyone from me, and you can't protect me from everyone if they all attacked me! And if my magic reacted... no, Minerva. I am not going.

Elen

* * *

Minerva

Very well. Perhaps I do owe you an explanation. The welfare of our entire world – to say nothing of the Muggle world – is bound up with Harry's welfare. Allowing Voldemort's heir to influence him towards evil would have been a serious lapse on my part. I investigated Riddle myself and he was already using his powers to mentally harm others, as Voldemort did at his age. Therefore, Harry _had_ to be protected from Riddle's evil. Azkaban was the most secure place I could think of to keep Riddle out of the way.

How could you endanger Harry like this, after all my work to keep him safe?

Albus

* * *

Amelia Bones, DMLE

Attached is Dumbledore's reasoning for Elen's imprisonment. He was EIGHT YEARS OLD! Also, what Sirius has told me – and the two short notes I got from Elen himself – leads me to believe that he never harmed anybody else with his magic anyway! He's _afraid_ of what his magic is capable of inflicting, and if he were deliberately hurting people and enjoying it Sirius would not be immune!

Regarding Dumbledore... I have locked myself in Remus' basement and my wand is on the other side of the door. When you get this letter, please come and let me out and stop me from killing him. I don't have time to be arrested right now. I have far too much on my plate.

Minerva

attached: letter from Albus Dumbledore regarding Elen Riddle

* * *

Minerva

Albus Dumbledore is answering very serious questions in Rufus Scrimgeour's office as I write. I'm on my way to let you out.

Amelia

* * *

Harry

I just read in the _French Daily Prophet For Travelling Wizards Who Want To Read British News_ that Sirius Black was framed by a Death Eater masquerading as Ron's RAT and subsequently railroaded without even a trial, Elen Riddle is still UNDERAGE and was never convicted of an actual _crime_ , and that Headmaster Dumbledore's answering questions at the Ministry! I double-checked the title thinking I'd picked up _The Quibbler_ by mistake, but I hadn't! What's going on?

Hermione

* * *

Hi Hermione

Um. You've got it pretty much right. I've forwarded this letter to Sirius and he can write on the bottom. He should be able to explain it better than me. I'm still not sure I understand it myself.

Harry

PS. Hermione, this is Sirius. Oddly, given _The Prophet_ 's propensity to state third-hand rumour as absolute truth and disregard inconvenient facts, every single word of what you wrote is true. Harry says you're one of his two best friends, so we'll certainly meet sometime and you can ask me whatever in person. It's a bit complicated to try to explain in a letter. Just please ask me, not Elen. I'm not sure how he'd take it.

* * *

Minerva

Elen is never going to manage to enter the Ministry without all hell breaking loose. So we're going to have to ease into it. I know Remus' house well enough to direct Kreacher. Can you be alone in the front room, with the curtains closed, at six o'clock tonight? I've persuaded him to try to meet you – as long as you're alone and I stay with him.

This is extremely dangerous, Minerva. Just because Elen has agreed to try does not guarantee a successful meeting. Not with his magic. I must warn you that if it snaps you could easily end up very badly hurt. But it won't trap you permanently if you don't attack him; that seems to happen in purest self-defence, like it did with Dolores Umbridge. She tried to curse us with something that started with "Cruc-". I only know _one_ curse that begins with that, so I'm not surprised Elen's Legilimency exploded.

Sirius

PS. Exactly how long is this stay of execution for?

* * *

Sirius

I'll be there. Someone has to be the first to go out on a limb and trust Elen to stay in control, and it might as well be me.

Minerva

PS. They've extended it. Pettigrew's testimony was extremely damning.

PPS. I've informed Amelia Bones that Umbridge attempted to cast the Cruciatus on you. Her wand has been checked and has confirmed your story. Therefore, the charge against you and Elen of breaking into her house with intent to murder has been quietly dropped – and if she ever recovers, she's going to have a lot of explaining to do.

attached: second envelope marked with PRIVATE

* * *

PRIVATE

Sirius

The _real_ reason they've extended the amnesty is because they've got a way for Aurors to listen in without ever being in the room. (I never thought I would say this, but Fred and George Weasley are actually very intelligent young men.) I suggest that you do _not_ tell Elen about this arrangement. The Aurors have given their sworn word that they will not interfere with anything that goes on in that front room, and that we will not even know that they are there. Even if Elen's Legilimency explodes, and I am hurt, I have made them PROMISE not to interfere.

Minister Bones gave me a long list of questions to ask you and Elen. Just warning you. I have also given the Aurors an ultimatum. Please make it very clear to Elen that if he becomes too frightened to stay, you will not be interfered with if you have to flee.

* * *

 **Author's Note: So, the horns of the dilemma have started to branch out and affect other things. Unexpected things. Things that have far-reaching consequences... and I apologise for not warning anyone about this particular little twist, but it would have been like the blurb for** ** _PoA_** **saying "Oh, by the way, Sirius Black is innocent". Dumbledore makes** ** _such_** **a disturbing villain if you only get his motivations right – he wants to protect Harry, no matter what he has to do in order to do so! (Similarly, he wanted Harry to grow up away from the wizarding world to avoid having his head turned by the fame and also because of the residual danger from the Death Eaters, never mind that Harry was abused by the people Dumbledore left him with and continued to send him back to... even after he** ** _realised_** **that Harry had suffered. He's the sort of person who has an end goal in mind and WILL get there... no matter what.)**

 **Anyway. I have done my level best NOT to bash him – because Dumbledore, regardless of him filling a villain's role as far as Elen is concerned, IS NOT EVIL in this story. Just... mistaken. With serious – even** ** _tragic_** **– consequences.  
**

 **Besides, the villain role had to be filled by either Dumbledore or the Ministry. Elen had to have been sent to Azkaban by** ** _somebody_** **, after all. And Dumbledore's more interesting, particularly since I'm at least** ** _attempting_** **to keep him in character – a manipulative person who truly loves Harry and will protect him as much as humanly possible... but will always act for the greater good as he sees it. Meaning that he always believes that he is** ** _right..._** **and this is really rather scary. It also means that the wise old wizard cannot waltz in and make everything better, because the wise old wizard is part of the** ** _problem_** **. However, y** ** **ou'll get to meet him face-to-face THREE times during the story, and also in a couple of longer letters than the ones here, and by the end of all of this I hope the story _doesn't_ read like it's bashing him as a person. ****


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

It was five to six. Minerva, true to her word, was waiting in the front room of Remus' house with the curtains closed. The door into the house was Silenced to hide all sign of the three Aurors hiding behind it, the cord end of three Extendable Ears extending from their own ears under the foot of the door. Remus was pacing the kitchen like a caged beast, only the knowledge that Elen would _not_ react well to him being in the room keeping him from joining Minerva and reuniting with his friend. Harry, who had been collected from the Leaky Cauldron by Minerva on her way back from the Auror Office, was also in the kitchen, trying to get Remus to calm down. A fourth and fifth Auror were guarding Harry, just in case Sirius tried something.

CRACK.

"... a glorified passenger service for vile traitors and scum and..."

"Shut _up_ , you miserable maggot, and go to that corner until we call you to leave." Sirius' voice was exasperated and barely under control. "Hello, Minerva. It's wonderful to see you again."

Minerva turned around slowly, making sure her hands were in full view and _not_ holding her wand. "Sirius." She smiled at him and then looked at the tense, unhappy teenager who was clinging desperately to him, eyes fixed on her, visibly shaking. _Poor child. Poor, poor child._ "Hello, Starling. I'm Minerva." She backed up two paces and sat down in Remus' tattered armchair, smiling the gentlest smile she could muster. "How are you?" _I will call him by his nickname. Nobody who has hurt him has ever called him by his nickname before. It may just be enough to turn the tide._

Silence.

"Elen." Sirius' voice was soft. "You wrote to Minerva, remember? You promised to try."

Elen swallowed, nodded, gathered together all his nerve, and spoke. "Hello." His voice rasped at the edges and he coughed. "Hello, Minerva."

 _I cannot ask Starling a single one of the questions that Minister Bones gave me. He is terrified. And the only things keeping that savage mind-magic barely in check are that Sirius is fairly calm, that I am unarmed, and most especially that it's been made very clear to him – because I made_ _ **sure**_ _that the Aurors swore on this as well – that if he feels he can't handle it we will allow him to flee with Sirius and try again later. It's only going to take the slightest spark to set off the wildfire. I can tell._

"Starling, you know I will not hurt you."

Elen shivered and huddled into Sirius, but nodded. "I know."

Minerva sighed and left it. "Sirius, how are you?"

"Stressed. But Harry's safe now that Wormtail's gone, so that's half the problem solved, and we're working on the other half. How is he?" He stroked Elen's hair gently. _You're doing well. I know being here with a witch goes against every instinct you have._

"Harry's well. He's with Remus right now."

"That's good. They should have met a long time ago." Sirius suddenly thought of something. _Maybe I can get Elen to relax._ "Elen?" He signed to Minerva to stay where she was and stay still. "Elen, look at me." He turned Elen's head gently towards him, but Elen's eyes stayed fixed on Minerva and he remained tense and ready to bolt. "Elen. Elen. Elen..."

Elen's eyes flicked to him for a fraction of a second before returning to Minerva.

"Elen, you know how I can turn into a dog? Minerva's an Animagus too."

"Would you like to see, Starling?" Minerva asked gently. "You don't have to."

Elen looked at her doubtfully, weighing up the suggestion.

 _He's curious. Sirius Black, you are a genius. Either that or he's going to startle and I'll get fried._ "I won't move from the chair. I promise."

Elen gritted his teeth and nodded sharply, backing into Sirius and groping for his hand. "Yes."

Minerva transformed and sat up still and straight.

"That's not a dog, Sirius _._ That's a _cat._ " Elen had immediately relaxed, and Sirius let out his breath in a slow, relieved sigh. _That could have gone so very, very wrong._

"Yes. Minerva can turn into a cat."

Elen smiled, looking her over. "She's pretty."

Minerva and Sirius choked at almost the same moment and immediately avoided each other's eyes. Independently, both of them thought of the nearby Aurors' probable reaction to this statement. Sirius laughed aloud. Minerva hunched down.

 _But as amusing as this is, it's not going to get us anywhere. Hopefully seeing Minerva as a cat has broken down that barrier preventing Elen from interacting with her._ "Elen, Minerva needs to change back now." He glanced at Minerva, who nodded. "Okay? Three, two, one..."

Minerva returned to human form, but this was one step too far. Elen spasmed, hands flying to his head.

CRACK.

Minerva blinked frantically and sagged back in the chair, breath coming in ragged sobs. Sirius and Elen were gone, as was the house-elf who had brought them. She suddenly felt her stomach twist and barely managed to be sick on the floor rather than down her front. _Pain and cold. So cold._ She spat and choked, the gag biting at her mouth, the enchanted ropes cutting deeply into her wrists and ankles and the Dementors crowding around. There was nothing she could do. She retched again and the bond suddenly snapped, setting her free.

 ** _Merlin._** _My head. My all-over-me._ Minerva opened her mouth to call the Aurors, but found herself melting back into her Animagus form instead. _I think I will just stay as a cat for a little while and recover. I feel like my mind's been thrown in acid._ Curling up tightly in the back corner of the armchair, she started to shake all over. _Sirius was clearly not exaggerating when he called Elen's Legilimency savage and out-of-control. Merlin._ She glanced up at the clock.

 _Almost seven minutes. He managed almost seven minutes in the same room as me, in a meeting he agreed to, with a near-instantaneous escape route in place and a support person present. And only about half of those minutes were spent with me in_ _ **human**_ _form. And his Legilimency still blew up in my face._

 _That is not much to build on._

 _On the plus side, Sirius was right. It didn't cage me in with it. I'm not trapped there. Was that_ _ **his**_ _memory? Merlin. Merlin. Merlin._

* * *

 ** _Sirius_**

 ** _I was delighted and astonished to hear that you were innocent. Please believe me when I tell you that I had no idea. I have spoken repeatedly to the Aurors here about the necessity of a trial for anybody else in your situation; I hope you were the only one but I do not_** ** _know_** ** _. They have promised me that they will look into it. I realise this sounds absolutely bizarre coming from me, considering that I deliberately eschewed any sort of trial for Riddle, but the Ministry would have balked at his age and he was already so manipulative and dangerous that he simply could_** ** _not_** ** _be left until he was older. I realise that you will certainly not believe this, but eventually the truth will come out. That is the nature of truth, after all._**

 ** _The next reason I have for writing to you is that I wish to apologise for the delay in the return of your wand. I would sign the paperwork to release it to you in an instant, but I cannot sign anything while I am under arrest and the whole mess of red tape has ground to a halt. I have hinted as strongly as possible to anyone who will listen that it may be better to do the right thing first and beg forgiveness for avoiding all the bureaucratic obstacles later. Hopefully you will get your wand back soon._**

 ** _Once you are officially pardoned, which should not take long with the strong evidence for your innocence, I would be happy to fully support your bid for the custody of Harry... on one condition. As you love Harry, keep Riddle away from him. If you endanger Harry by exposing him to Riddle, I will have no choice but to oppose full custody and send Harry back to his aunt and uncle to be protected by the blood wards there. They can easily be reapplied if Harry's running away has brought them down. You would naturally have visitation rights. I would never separate you and Harry._**

 ** _Riddle may have manipulated you into loyalty, but I know that you still love Harry best. For your godson's sake, keep them apart._**

 ** _Albus_**

Sirius screwed the letter into a ball, then unfolded it again and tore it up into tiny pieces, then screwed it into a ball again and threw it into the lit fireplace with a yell of pure fury. The Ministry owl blinked and took flight, concluding that a response would not be forthcoming. Elen's hands shot up to cover his ears as he flinched back into the corner where he'd been shaking for the last ten minutes, trying to deal with the fact that his wild magic had just attacked somebody – again. And this time it had lashed out at somebody _unarmed_.

 _You're right about exactly one thing, Dumbledore._

 _I don't believe you. Not about Elen._

 _However, after this disaster, he's never going to agree to meet anybody new again. Ever. So keeping him and Harry apart – although I wish that they could meet – may just be the way it has to be. Unless we can somehow bring Elen's savage magic under control, of course – but fat chance of that, not when it reacts like_ _ **that**_ _simply to a stranger in the same room._

Another owl soared into the house, going straight to Sirius before he had time to calm down and return to Elen. Sirius swore. _If this is you again, Dumbledore..._

 ** _Sirius_**

 ** _Please tell Elen that I will recover. And tell him that I could_** ** _tell_** ** _he did not mean to attack me – he simply got frightened past his ability to control it, and it gave him no warning._**

 ** _Tell him that it obviously was NOT his fault. And keep telling him that until he believes you. Tell him that I will only be angry if he insists on blaming himself for this. I chose to meet him with his wild magic unchecked, fully aware that I was taking a massive risk, and it backfired – and that was nobody's fault. Not yours, not mine, and certainly not his._**

 ** _Minerva_**

Sirius sighed with relief. "Elen, Minerva's going to be fine." He knelt down and pulled him into a hug. "She just wrote. And she's not even angry." He held out the letter. "Read it for yourself if you don't believe me."

Elen took the letter. "She's okay?" he asked softly, not daring to believe it.

Sirius nodded. "She's going to be fine."

"Sirius, can I tell her that I'm _really_ sorry? I didn't mean to..."

"I know. And so does she."


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Minerva, we need those questions answered while public opinion is still on our side." Minister Bones leant forward. "I realise that the situation is difficult and that Elen Riddle is both fragile and volatile, but we have to make sure that this miscarriage of justice can _never_ happen again. And if this can be swept under the carpet, it will be. Fudge just wants to forget it ever happened, and we _can't_ keep Albus Dumbledore here without at the very least knowing that we'll be able to _get_ those answers at trial. If we let him go, everyone who comes in the way of the 'greater good' is going to be in mortal danger."

"I know." Minerva put down her tea and stared at it. "But Amelia, you cannot comprehend just how fragile Elen really is just by reading the Aurors' reports of what happened in the meeting. He wouldn't have coped with a single one of those questions. I only got five words out of him before Sirius had that brainwave, and half of those were 'Hello'. And it's his _magic_ that's volatile, not him. He's terrified of us and it sets it off." She sighed. "He apologised, you know. He wrote to me. But when I wrote back to ask him about what I experienced, it took Sirius several minutes to extract him from under the bed. He can't handle it, Amelia."

"Has he seen a Healer yet?"

"The Healers are still trying to work out how to start without risking their own lives. I can't say I blame them. Trying to treat somebody who's as terrified of wizards as Elen and whose magic will instinctively do _that_ to them the moment he feels threatened... Amelia, they already lost two colleagues for three days each after they tried to Heal Umbridge, and that was indirect. Going at him _directly_ will destroy them. He needs to be disabled first, but it'll take magic to do that, and using magic against him will be considered a threat, and we're back to him needing to be disabled first..."

"There _must_ be a solution somewhere," Minister Bones said. "How can we possibly take the edge off his terror so that he can be Healed without hurting the Healers? From the reports I've been given, he seems to trust Sirius to the point of Sirius being completely immune to his vicious mind-magic, so perhaps Sirius is the key to cracking this open. If he were to cast a Calming Charm, as powerfully as he could..."

Minerva sighed. "We can but try. Elen does trust Sirius, absolutely. However, Sirius' wand is being held up in red tape, given that the Head of the Wizengamot has to sign the form for its release and Dumbledore's in no position to sign."

Amelia shut her office door with a wave of her wand and held her finger to her lips. "I didn't just call you here to talk about Elen Riddle." She opened her bottom drawer and withdrew Sirius' wand, holding it out handle-first to Minerva. "Dumbledore suggested that we do the right thing first and ask forgiveness later, and he's completely right. Sirius Black is innocent and everyone knows it. His full pardon came through today, and the way I see it, the signature is just a nicety. And one we cannot afford, because we really do need Elen's testimony if anything against Dumbledore is going to stand up in court."

* * *

Sirius stared at his wand, being held out to him by Minerva in Remus' kitchen, where Harry had been failing to teach them both how to cook pancakes without magic; Sirius had started a food fight and there was batter splattered all over the kitchen. It was even dripping from the ceiling. Minerva had thought about cleaning it up, but on seeing three laughing faces, had opted to simply conjure a small umbrella to keep it from landing on her. This, of course, had only made them laugh harder. _I have missed this. It's like having the Marauders back again._ Sirius had started to spend two hours every day getting to know Harry and rekindling his friendship with Remus, leaving Elen behind. Elen had an open invitation to come along to simply be alone in a room _in the same house_ so he could get used to them from a slight distance and join them whenever he was ready – if ever. However, he hadn't taken them up on this suggestion yet and it didn't look likely to happen. (Harry and Remus both knew what they'd be potentially put though even _without_ attacking him if he did decide to try to join in, but Remus had said privately to Sirius that he was sure he'd suffered through worse transformations and Harry had said in front of everyone that a full-fledged fit hadn't done Professor McGonagall any permanent damage and that he'd survive a few days of feeling dreadful.)

"You're serious? No, what am I saying, of course you can't be Sirius, _I'm_ Sirius." He reached out and took hold of his wand, reverently. "I thought this had been destroyed... and then after Dumbledore's letter I thought it would take about three years to get it back..."

Minerva took a deep breath. "Sirius, Amelia suggested that you cast a Calming Charm on Elen."

Sirius stiffened. "Minerva..."

"You're about the only one who can do it without being blasted, Sirius," Remus mused, rubbing at a bit of pancake batter that had migrated onto his nose. "He trusts you."

"You want me. To use magic. On _Elen_. Was that the _price_ of my wand, Minerva?"

" ** _No_** , Sirius." Minerva cleared a kitchen stool with a flick of her wand and sat down. "You've been fully pardoned as of today; your wand is _yours._ But the price of stopping Dumbledore from doing something like this again is Elen's testimony at the trial next month, and you know as well as I do that barring a miracle, that's never going to happen. He needs expert help, Sirius. You've done your best and you've quite frankly worked wonders, but it's not enough! He needs to be Healed to even _perhaps_ stay in control of that Legilimency when testifying under Veritaserum, which is unfortunately what it's going to take for him to stand even the slightest chance of being believed when speaking against Dumbledore, but he panics far too easily and is far too dangerous while _in_ said panic for any Healer to risk even attempting it. Tell me I'm wrong, Sirius."

Sirius sagged. "I can't. You're right. You're right, and I'll do it. But I don't have to like it."

"I think it should be done here." Remus counted off the points on his fingers as Minerva, Sirius and Harry all looked at him in varying degrees of quizzical. "First, he's been here before. Second, I know you've been describing these meetings to him, Padfoot, hoping he'll dare to come and at least be somewhere nearby the next time you ask him, so he knows it second-hand from your descriptions as well. Third, this place is set up for Healers." He smiled laconically. "And fourth, if it all turns pear-shaped, at least nobody will have invaded Grimmauld Place and he'll still feel safe there."

"Feeling safe in Grimmauld Place is not a phrase I ever thought I'd hear, Remus," Sirius mentioned with a wry laugh. "But you're right, and I guess the sooner the better. How fast can you get a Healer here?"

"Now, practically." Minerva smiled at Sirius' surprise. "They've been planning how to do this ever since they first heard about Elen. The hitch was that he had to be kept quiescent and pliable in the beginning stages to avoid his magic attacking them, and until now nobody could think of a way to do that."

"And I'm that way?" Sirius asked, deadpan. "Oh dear."

" _Not_ funny, Sirius."

"Sorry, Moony. _And_ Minerva. I'm sorry." He smiled apologetically at them. "Get the Healer and whatever they need here; I'll take Harry back to the Leaky Cauldron now, then I'll get that spell on Elen somehow and bring him." Harry nodded and started to pack up his things.

 _I still hate it, but they're right. He's got so much better already, but only around me; that Legilimency prevents anyone else from even_ _ **trying**_ _to get close enough to help him, and if something happened to me..._

 _He_ _ **needs**_ _a Healer. And if I have to enchant him without his consent to get him one, I will._


	9. Chapter 8

**WARNING: This chapter is the reason why this story's rating got upped to a T. It's about the most intense chapter in the story, and is also by far the most brutal. Healing Elen takes a lot more than waving a wand and saying a few funny words to make everything all better... but this is NOT gratuitous sadism, and if anyone wants a rundown of the Healing and the reasoning behind it in detail I'm happy to give it – just give me a way of contacting you.**

* * *

 **Chapter Eight**

Elen looked up in surprise from where he was lying on the tiger-skin rug, using the head as a bookrest. "Sirius, why are you back so early? Is everyone all right?"

Sirius sat down on a once-handsome footstool, automatically avoiding the sprung springs. "I got my wand back just now. _And_ a full pardon. I'm free." He started to laugh, incredulous. "I'm _free_."

Elen put the book down, came over, and hugged him. "Free... what's it like to be free, Padfoot?"

Sirius smiled and stood up, hugging Elen back and readying his wand, still hidden up his sleeve. _The happier and more relaxed he already is, the stronger the spell will bind him and the more difficult it will be for that atrocious Legilimency to escape the snare. Therefore, catching him completely unawares is the best way to go about this. He won't have time to panic before the spell hits, and while he's under he won't be_ _ **able**_ _to._ "It's wonderful." He rotated the wand to point directly at Elen's back and whispered _"Pantraliquo_ " under his breath.

Elen jerked as the violet light sank into his shoulder, but as Sirius had hoped, the combination of his absolute trust of Sirius and the complete lack of warning meant that his magic hadn't activated. He caught Elen as he crumpled, eyes dazed and unfocused and slowly closing even as confusion and the beginning of fear began to touch them. "Shhh, Elen. I'm right here. This will be scary, but you're safe and you'll be all right." _Once you're Healed, you'll truly be all right for the first time in a very long time indeed._ Gathering Elen's drowsing body gently into his arms, he Apparated.

* * *

"Who the HELL invited YOU here?" Sirius spat, shifting Elen's dead weight and drawing his wand to point right into Snape's face. "We've got work to do – go back to whatever pit you crawled out of and let us get on with it."

Snape sneered. "I've been liaising with the Healers ever since they dragged me into this." He looked at Elen, assessing, and the sneer twisted into a pained grimace. _How on earth is he even sane? I knew his mind-magic was abnormal, but that Legilimency is not following_ _ **any**_ _of the normal mental/magical channels, it's bound to his memories AND his emotions AND his magic and twisting them all up together, the Dementors have completely shredded any vestige of control he may once have had, and I've never seen a hair-trigger as bad as that in my life. "Abnormal" does not even_ _ **begin**_ _to describe how bad it is._ "Seeing the damage done to your Elen, I suddenly understand why the Healers were so very insistent that I be part of this venture. He will not Heal without my input, I assure you. So I suggest that _you_ let _us_ get on with it."

"Any _halfway-competent_ Healer would be able to do more than you could in ten years for Elen," Sirius hissed.

"If you want the _lead Healer of the mental injuries ward_ to be able to do him any good at all without being driven mad herself, you need _me_!" Snape bit down on his temper, seething for a moment. _Get it together, Severus. Even if I have to deal with_ _ **Black**_ _, this Healing cannot wait. And to deal with Black, he needs to either be driven from the room or beg me himself to help the child. If I Stun him, that Calming Charm disintegrates. Elen will then panic and strike Healer Perry down like he did Dolores Umbridge, and I wouldn't bet on my ability to disable him again without a controlling factor already in place. Not while he's in a full-fledged panic. If we're extremely lucky he'll stay to protect Black, but if we're not he'll_ _ **run**_ _... and I don't fancy anybody's chances if that happens, least of all his. So, we will see just how much Black cares._ "Unless you dare to ask Albus Dumbledore to help you loosen the death grip which that Legilimency exerts on Elen's magic without damaging him further. It's my professional opinion as an Occlumens that it will destroy him and everyone around him if he _is_ damaged further, but if you prefer it that way I will take my leave right now, and wish you _good luck_." The sarcasm was palpable. "Skilled practitioners of the mental arts are, after all, rare – and difficult to come by." He turned away. The Healer – an elderly dark-skinned lady with a kind face and thinning hair – glared at Sirius.

 _Oh for the love of Merlin. If this wasn't so important..._ "Snape. Wait." Sirius gritted his teeth but managed to utter the final word. " _Please._ "

Snape turned back, raising an eyebrow. " _Please_ ," he mimicked, and laughed nastily. "Well. Since you ask so very politely... we might as well begin." He jerked his head. "Lay him on the bed and get out." _You care enough to beg. Do you care enough to trust?_

"I'm not leaving him," Sirius snapped. _At the mercy of the goodwill of Severus Snape. Somebody kill me now._

Snape gave him a long, unreadable look. _Obviously not. Very well. I can deal with a lack of trust, and I will make_ _ **sure**_ _you cannot interfere before we begin properly. I made contingency plans._ "Then lay him on the bed and shut up." He extracted several vials from his sleeves and began to carefully combine the contents in a portable silver cauldron. "Put him _down_ , Black _._ Healer Perry, if you would?"

Healer Perry pushed Sirius gently aside. "Mr Black, please get out of my way. I won't ask twice." She hissed between her teeth as she pulled Elen's sleeves up and saw the scarred wrists, but gently slipped the restraints over them, tightened them, bound them to the bed and moved on to his legs. Elen whimpered and began to struggle weakly. Healer Perry looked over at Sirius, who was on the verge of interfering.

"The potion will link us all together so that Severus can completely dismantle and rebuild his defences from the inside, and shields me so that I can prevent brain damage. Then we'll work together to direct that Legilimency into a normal pattern and therefore make it possible for him to gain control over it. But it's going to send him into an absolute panicked tailspin when he tries to defend himself against our mental invasion and _can't_. I'm sorry to have to physically restrain him, particularly after what he's been through, but he's going to be thrashing something dreadful and we need to be able to get _at_ him without having to use magic; it's a distraction we won't be able to afford. Mr Black... this is going to be immensely unpleasant, and that's understating the case. I _strongly_ suggest that you leave him here with us and join Minerva downstairs."

Sirius folded his arms and leant back against the wall, trying to relax. "I'm not going anywhere."

Healer Perry sighed, but knew an immovable object when she saw one. She gently rubbed a potion around Elen's nose and mouth, incanting softly; as the vapour rose, Elen breathed it and half-woke, eyes distant and still dazed. His struggles died and he lay still, breathing deeply.

"Elen, we're going to give you something to drink that will make you better. You need to swallow it, okay?"

"'Kay..."

Sirius blinked as Snape decanted the brilliant blue mixture into three goblets and approached the bed. _He's tied up, he can't escape, he's surrounded by strangers, and he says okay?_ Snape handed one goblet to the Healer, who drank it, and drank down one goblet himself. Both of them pointed their wands at each other and said the same incantation, a sixteen-syllable spell that Sirius lost at the fifth syllable.

Snape half-turned and spoke to Sirius coldly.

"You interfere with this, you will never see Elen sane _or_ in control of his magic again, and we'll have no choice but to put him down. Last chance to leave." _And if you don't, I will Stun you and tie you up in the corner. Now that Elen's under the influence of the Coercum Concoction, we'll have enough leeway to Stun you and reapply that Charm ourselves before he'll manage to attack us._

Sirius took a deep breath. _If those are really the only choices on offer, Elen cannot afford for Snape to be distracted, not even a little._ "I will swear on my magic that I will not interfere, if _you_ will swear that your intent is to help him." He held out his wand, stomach twisting. "Take it and chain me to the wall if it'll help, but I am not leaving."

Snape blinked, taken completely by surprise. _Well. It seems that Black is finally growing up_. _Fine. That will work just as well._ "On my magic I do so swear it. _Accio_ Black's wand." He rolled it under the bed, far out of reach, and jabbed his wand at Sirius, who gasped as the manacles locked brutally tight around his wrists, yanking them behind his back. Another jab and a strong chain linked them to the back wall. _You won't interfere now, even if you tried... and with what we've got to do, you are going to try. I know you, Black. But you cannot escape those chains, no matter what happens; not with both arms so tightly pinned behind you and your alternate form therefore inaccessible. I researched it._ He turned back to Elen and held the goblet to his lips, his voice oddly gentle as he spoke. "Drink, Elen." As Elen obediently swallowed the last drops, both of them recast the spell on him, and the shining blue cords binding Snape and Healer Perry together snaked around Elen and bound him to them as well, spreading themselves in a delicate net entangling his whole body, then sinking in. Then Snape pointed his wand straight in Elen's face and stared into his eyes. _He's now fully disabled; that Legilimency will only break free when I want it to. But just in case... may Merlin be with us all._

" _Legilimens._ "

Elen screamed in agony and terror, thrashing so hard that the restraints, even though they were padded, began to cut into him. Sirius instinctively tried to leap to his side, but was jerked back painfully by the manacles. _Oh, right._ He stared over at Elen, willing him strength. _You'll get through this. You'll be fine. I promise. I promise._ Snape and Healer Perry were incanting in turn, wand tips together, bombarding Elen with magic without an instant's pause. The moment Elen tried to evade the force of one spell, he was hit full on by the next; the restraints were doing their job of holding his body captive and helpless, and the spells were taking their toll. His screams had become wrenching, insane shrieks that sounded as if they were tearing his throat apart; the blue net was rippling and lunging as Elen's Legilimency tried to escape. When he vomited, the Healer cleared it away manually with her off hand, never pausing the spellwork. Snape swirled his wand, pointed it at Healer Perry, and caught her eye, holding up three fingers. Two. One.

" _Occlumens._ "

Elen snapped into spasm as his magic tore free, slamming straight into Healer Perry a bare instant after Snape's spell. She swayed but managed to hold her footing. Sirius started to struggle, desperate, even trying to transform despite knowing that it was no use. _Elen, hold on,_ _ **please**_ _don't hurt them, they're your only chance..._

"That's it, Elen." Snape's voice was calm and cool. "Just keep doing that."

 _Why, you- you-_ Sirius couldn't find words bad enough to describe Snape. Frantic, he tried one more time to transform, and found one more time that he couldn't. _I'll tear you to pieces, I'll kill you, I'll find a way to cage_ _ **you**_ _in with it like you've just sacrificed Healer Perry... Elen, I am so sorry..._ He fought against the manacles and then collapsed back for a moment, desperately trying to think of a way to save Elen from Snape. Snape had turned away from Elen and raised his wand to the Healer, casting silently, golden and silver, blue and crimson for a full five minutes; ignoring Sirius, who had now started lunging against the chain, cursing him to hell and back.

Snape studied the pattern of his enchantment for a few moments, then gave a sharp nod and stalked back to the bed, withdrawing a vial from his sleeve. Sirius closed his eyes in despair as Snape forced Elen's head back, upended the contents of the vial into Elen's mouth and used a quick spell to seal it shut, another to prevent the potion going into Elen's lungs, and another to seal Elen's nostrils.

"There. You have to swallow before you can breathe, and you have to breathe sometime..." He lowered his wand and watched dispassionately. Elen was writhing, eyes completely mad, trying to expel the liquid from his sealed mouth, trying to breathe, trying to scream, unable to do any of them. His Legilimency raged on, lashing at the air around Healer Perry and starting to drain into the pattern of Snape's enchantments.

After about half a minute, the lack of air was clearly weakening Elen. His desperate struggles faltered and then stopped altogether as his body tried to conserve energy and strained uselessly to breathe, and finally he swallowed the potion, gasping for air as his mouth unsealed. The Legilimency swirled fully into the spell pattern and shot back into Elen's body, startling a sharp scream from him. Sanity lit up in his eyes and he instantly tried to shield himself from Snape and Healer Perry, twisting helplessly against the restraints with cries of pain as they scraped against his raw wrists and ankles.

Healer Perry and Severus Snape both scrambled back; Snape's wand came down and across and a curtain shielded Elen from their sight.

"Well done." Healer Perry's voice was an exhausted croak, but Sirius' head snapped straight up in disbelieving shock. "Did you get it all?"

Snape stared at the curtain. "I _thought_ I had prepared for the worst-case scenario..." He shook himself. "Yes. Thank Merlin, yes. His Legilimency is bound and at least _potentially_ controllable." He turned. "Black. We're done. Get those restraints off him and _try_ to make him let Healer Perry treat the damage he's done to himself thrashing round like that." He Vanished the manacles and Disapparated before Sirius could get his feet under himself to spring at his throat.

 _Forget him for now. More important things._ "Elen!" Sirius scrambled over to the bed and began wrenching at the wrist restraints. A moment later, Minerva almost flew through the door and started freeing Elen's legs. Elen latched onto Sirius like a burr and burst into tears.

A note fluttered in and laid itself in Sirius' hand. Sirius unfolded it.

 ** _Elen will never allow me near him right now. Take him home and keep him warm and quiet, Mr Black. There's a brown satchel with the required potions in the front room, where Minerva tells me you've been with Elen before. Take it with you. The red potion in the red container is to be put directly on the wounds and is_** ** _not_** ** _to be ingested; all others at least an hour before food three times daily. Give him one dose of all of them as soon as he'll take it, and make sure he takes them until the bottles are empty. Do NOT perform any more wanded magic on him until all the potions are finished, which should take four days; I prevented brain damage, but it'll take time to seal and Heal._**

 ** _During the Healing, Severus set up the mental foundations for Elen to learn how to control his Legilimency. He has left further instructions in the satchel, and practice exercises, and they should bring his Legilimency under control in most situations if he practices diligently._**

 ** _Healer Martha Perry_**

Sirius glanced at Minerva, who was sitting very still on the end of the bed, concerned about Elen's injuries but not daring to come closer. In his arms, Elen was descending rapidly into shock, shaking with cold and reaction. "Minerva, could you get my wand from under the bed and then bring that satchel to us at Grimmauld? I'm taking Elen _straight_ home."

Minerva Summoned his wand and passed it over. "Yes, of course I can."

Sirius Disapparated.


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

"Sirius?" Minerva called from the front hall, laden with a heavy brown satchel, and was immediately startled by a furious cacophony of yells. Her lips thinned in frustration. _I cannot_ _ **believe**_ _I forgot about the Portrait Hall of Doom and Deafness, as Sirius put it in sixth year._ A CRACK sounded from directly behind her and she spun.

"The blood-traitor and the brain-addled brat he dragged here with him are in the Master's bedroom." Kreacher bowed and smiled, showing several sharp teeth. "If you would please follow me."

Minerva counted to twenty-seven in Gobbledegook and proceeded to mount the stairs after Kreacher. _It is rude to Silence somebody else's house-elf, it is rude to Silence somebody else's house-elf..._

"Their visitor is to please be careful of the clock." Kreacher looked back with a thin smile which was even nastier than his toothy one. "It has taken many lives."

"Minerva?" Sirius' voice came from the fifth door on the left. "Is that you?"

Minerva created a solid barrier around the clock and stepped into the hall. "I'm here." She hurried into the room. Elen was curled up beside Sirius, wrapped in a thick eiderdown. His breath caught when he saw Minerva, and he slid down the bed and retreated under it, trying to pull Sirius with him. Minerva closed her eyes for a moment. _I guess Severus calling me to help free him didn't work._ _He still doesn't trust me._ She placed the satchel down by the door and turned to leave.

"Minerva, wait." Sirius reached out to her with his free hand, half-under the bed, trying to keep Elen wrapped at least. "Change into the cat and come here. Please just try..."

Minerva didn't even think. She shifted form and came slowly over. Elen smiled slightly and reached out to her, touching her left ear with his forefinger.

"Don't change back," Sirius whispered as he gathered Elen back out from under the bed. Minerva leapt up onto the sheets and shook her head decidedly. _I have no intention to wreck this, Sirius. He's letting me near him. He even_ _ **touched**_ _me. Now all we need to do is to get him to give me as a human the trust he gives me as a cat._ Sirius lay Elen on the bed next to Minerva and gently detached himself, but Elen seized his shoulder and a handful of hair and wouldn't let go. Sirius winced.

"Elen. You see the satchel by the door? I'm going to get it and then I'm coming straight back. Stay on the bed with Minerva." He smiled, pure mischief. "She likes to have her ears rubbed." He detached Elen again and crossed the room in three quick strides, scooping up the satchel and turning back to find Minerva curling up glaring daggers at him, Elen slowly starting to scratch her ears. Sirius smiled. _He really does like cats, doesn't he? Hmmm..._ He returned to the bed and rummaged through the satchel, digging out six bottles and putting the thick sheaf of parchment back. _Red for physical, all others to be drunk._ He quickly read the descriptions, poured out a dose of the first one and raised it to Elen's mouth, but Elen twisted away and made a distressed noise, shielding his face with his arms. Minerva increased the volume of her purr and rubbed against him.

Sirius looked blankly at Elen. _Why won't he take it? He trusts me._ He gently pulled Elen's arm down and tried again, only to have Elen hit out at the goblet and roll into a frightened ball around Minerva, shielding his face not only with his arms but his legs as well. Sirius was barely able to save the potion from spilling all over the bed. Minerva squeezed free with a winded squeak and looked back at Elen, who hadn't noticed her leaving. She sighed and walked over to Sirius, deliberately raising her paw and putting it on the red bottle, looking at Sirius pointedly. _This one first._

Sirius shook his head. "No. If I can only get him to take _one_ , it has to be this one." He indicated the goblet. "We can't let that Healing go to waste, and if it doesn't set..."

Minerva drew herself up and patted the red bottle again, looking Sirius straight in the eyes. _If I ever wanted telepathy, it's right now... Black, this one does something to help him that he can_ _ **see**_ _!_

Sirius shook his head again, cast a spell on the goblet and moved behind Elen, pinning his arms to his chest and grasping his jaw with his other hand. "Come on, Elen. Drink it. Please. For me." Elen tucked his chin down by his neck as the hovering goblet pressed against his tightly-closed mouth, struggling, then twisted his head free with painful force and bit Sirius. Minerva leapt off the bed and streaked into the hall, taking her own form as soon as she was outside. " _Expecto patronum._ "

The silver cat flowed into the room and hovered directly in front of Sirius' face. Elen's eyes went wide in wonder, but he startled away when it spoke.

"Sirius Orion Black, use the red potion _this instant_ and stop frightening Elen. Let him _see_ it Healing him." The Patronus dissolved and Minerva the cat ran back in, jumping back on the bed and putting her paw firmly on the red bottle.

Sirius threw up his hands, dramatically giving in. "Yes ma'am." He smeared the red potion over the palm of his hand and reached out. Elen dodged his grip and retreated under the bed yet again, curling up protectively. "Get away!"

Sirius sighed and followed him. "You don't have to drink this one." He grasped the raw place on Elen's left wrist and instantly let go as Elen twisted desperately away from him, leaving a glutinous smear. "Actually, please _don't_ drink it. Look at your arm, Elen."

Wary eyes glared at him, terrified and angry. "You took me there. You let them _hurt_ me – why should I trust _you_? Get OUT!"

Sirius closed his eyes. _So, the shock's faded and he's realised. I wish he could have realised fifteen minutes later, or_ _ **never**_ _, but looking at it from his point of view I have just betrayed him and turned him over, bound and helpless, to be tortured again._ "Elen, it was the only way to get your magic under your control so that it wouldn't attack anyone else like it did Minerva..." He withdrew, letting Elen have the entire space under the bed. "I didn't realise what they'd have to do, or that it was going to be quite that bad."

"You _knew_ they'd hurt me!" Elen spat. "You _knew_." He bowed his head and curled up tightly, shaking. "Leave me alone."

Sirius shook his head emphatically. "I knew that they would _Heal_ you. I did _not_ realise that they'd have to hurt you to _get_ you Healed until we were already there, and for the sake of you being able to control your magic... Elen, it was worth it. I promise." Elen gave him a profoundly sceptical sidelong look, and Sirius looked back at him, straight in the eyes. "Elen, if I'd asked you beforehand, would you have willingly gone through that to ensure that you **_never, ever_** accidentally hurt anyone again?"

A long, long pause. Minerva lay down against Elen and purred as loudly as she could; Elen's fingers stole to her side and began to stroke her. "Yes," Elen whispered finally. "I would have, _if_ that's what they did. Why didn't you _ask_?"

Sirius let out his breath all at once. "I didn't ask you because I was an absolute and utter moron." _I could have asked. I could have told him that there was a way for him to be Healed but that I would need to do magic on him first. I could have got his consent. Then I could have left it for a week or so, and hit him with it while he slept._ "Because I made a mistake. I should have asked, and I didn't. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry." A pause. "And of _course_ they Healed you. What else would a Healer ever do?"

Elen uncurled slightly, still wary. " _Never_ attack me again. Promise me!"

"I promise," Sirius said quietly. "But Elen, you really do need to take the potions. Look at your arm if you don't believe me."

Elen looked at his wrist and gasped. New skin had formed where the potion had touched, covering the scraped, red soreness and lightening the bruises. He touched it gently, then stared at Sirius, disbelieving.

Sirius tipped some more potion into his hand. "Can I come under there? I want to do your other wrist." Elen nodded and held it out cautiously, and Sirius smeared the potion over it. The wounds immediately began to heal over.

"There, you see? Elen, this potion Heals the outside wounds, like your wrists. The others Heal the inside wounds, and they're even more important. So you _have_ to drink them. Please. They'll make you better." He gently helped Elen out from under the bed yet again and got him under the eiderdown, rubbing potion into his ankles.

Elen shook his head. "NO. The woman said that about the last one, and I believed her, and it _hurt_. I'm not swallowing anything unless I know what it does." He laughed incredulously, half-frightened and totally confused. "I believed her. How on earth could I be stupid enough to believe her?"

 _I know the answer to that, now I've had a chance to think about it – the potion they got you to breathe the fumes of was distant cousin to the Imperius Curse, although much weaker, and you had no hope of fighting it while you were sedated by my Calming Charm – but I don't think I'll tell you that._ "Let me get your ankles." He rubbed the potion in. "The one in the goblet is to stop the hurt they had to inflict to _make_ you better from degenerating over time and shredding your mind..." He smeared more potion on Elen's wrists and the bruising faded to yellow, talking all the while, explaining exactly what each potion did. Minerva leapt up on the bed again, purring as hard as she could. Sirius smeared more potion on Elen's ankles and picked up the goblet again. "Please, Elen. Drink it. It will help Heal you." He held it out.

Elen looked at his almost-healed wrists, then back at Sirius. "Promise?"

"I promise."

Elen tried to take the goblet, and Sirius caught it as his grip faltered and it tilted. "Here, let me help you." He helped Elen raise the goblet to his mouth and took it back after Elen had swallowed. "Four more..."

After the fifth potion had been taken and Elen had fallen asleep curled around a hot-water-bottle, Minerva leapt off the bed again and transformed back mid-jump. Sirius looked at her sheepishly. "Thank you. You were right."

"You're doing the best you can. Just try to _take_ advice next time your methods don't work, all right?" She clasped Sirius' hand as he nodded. "I have to get back. I have a lot of work to do. I _never_ expected to be Headmistress with no notice at all. Take care, Sirius. If you get sick from neglecting yourself I'll tie you to the bed and take care of Elen myself, even if I have to be feline and get my points across through mime." Seeing a wicked grin forming on Sirius' face and his eyes starting to dance, she drew herself up. "That was not a challenge, Black."

"I wouldn't dream of such a thing. Take care, Minerva." _And now to act on that brainwave. Or, truth be told, get Moony to act on that brainwave for me. I can't leave him._

 _If he likes cats so much, a Kneazle-cross would be perfect. And it'll give him something else to think about._

* * *

Remus had also thought that Sirius' idea was a brainwave. Finding a suitable Kneazle-cross was proving more difficult. He'd been to three shops so far and in two shops the Kneazle-crosses had growled at him, even after he'd said it was for a gift. Just being intelligent and loyal to their chosen humans didn't necessarily make them nice to anybody else, and he really, really needed one that was willing to bond. In the third shop, the cat offered had been stunningly beautiful and very expensive, as well as friendly, but if it was a Kneazle-cross Remus would have eaten his best robes, patches and all. It had fallen asleep during the simple test of aptitude that all crosses could perform with ease. The shopkeeper had been livid and Remus had been glad to escape.

Remus pushed open the door of the final shop. _If there's nothing here I'm going to Arabella Figg. She has contacts with breeders, what with that menagerie of hers._ The saleswitch smiled at him.

"What can we do for you?"

Remus smiled wryly. "I've been all over the place looking for a Kneazle-cross that would be suitable as a therapy cat. That means, calm and willing to bond... preferably not a kitten."

A fluffy ginger tomcat with a slightly-squashed face and large orange eyes leapt up onto the counter and looked enquiringly at him. The saleswitch laughed and stroked him. "Crookshanks here is half-Kneazle. He's six years old and he's been passed over because... well, you can see he's not the most handsome cat." Crookshanks gave her a disgusted look and stalked off towards Remus. "But as you can see, he's _very_ intelligent – he understands practically everything you say. Are you looking for yourself, or for someone else?"

"Someone else," Remus replied guardedly, attracting Crookshanks' intense interest. "He's been very ill, and he's so anxious that he rarely leaves the house, but he apparently likes cats. One of the few people he trusts asked me to find a Kneazle-cross for him, so here I am."

Crookshanks purred and flicked his tail, looking regal, then patted his left front paw twice on the counter and stood up on his hind legs. Remus blinked.

"I've never seen them do the test by themselves..."

"Crookshanks is special. Even for a Kneazle-cross. I'd have him myself if he'd let me, but he won't have a bar of it. But it looks like he's decided to give your friend a try."

Remus laughed. "Looks like it. How much is he?"

"Three Galleons." Remus' eyebrows lifted. _Half-Kneazle, unusually intelligent, fairly young, and that cheap?_ The saleswitch raised her eyebrows back at him. "I _told_ you. Most people look at the surface and nothing more, so nobody wanted him, so his price went down."

Remus smiled. "Starling won't care about his looks." He handed over three of the Galleons that Sirius had sent, and then turned to Crookshanks. "Do you have anything you particularly like to play with in here? I _definitely_ have enough money to buy it." Crookshanks leapt off the counter and returned a moment later, a jingling red-and-white fluffy ball clamped firmly in his mouth. The saleswitch laughed.

"You can have that one for free. He's loved it ever since he was a kitten, and we don't even sell them anymore. A _Reparo_ every three months or so keeps it going." She smiled. "Look... if he and Starling don't hit it off, you can bring him back. We'll find someone worthy of him, never fear."

* * *

Halfway up the stairs with the basket he'd just claimed from Remus at the front door, the tie came loose and an enormous cat streaked up the stairs and into the room ahead of him. Sirius reached the door just in time to see the cat leap up onto the bed and start purring, and Elen reach out towards it.

"Sorry." Sirius slowed to a walk. "Remus just brought him over. His name's Crookshanks. Do you like him?"

"He's _beautiful_." Elen gathered the cat into his arms. "Is he yours?"

"No, Elen," Sirius said softly as Crookshanks twisted around and began to lick Elen's nose, making him laugh. "He's yours."

* * *

 **Author's Note: The reason Hermione decided on Crookshanks in Rowling's original story was because he got her attention by chasing Scabbers. In this story, Pettigrew was captured** ** _before Hermione ever got back from France_** **. Therefore, Crookshanks never chased Scabbers. There was no real** ** _impetus_** **for Crookshanks to draw attention to himself, no desperation that he HAD to be chosen because there was DANGER PRESENT** ** _._** **So Hermione got her owl, and Crookshanks remained at the shop... for a short time.**

 **Besides, I really like the idea of Elen having a half-Kneazle for a therapy cat, and who better than Crookshanks?**


	11. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

"Come with me, Elen. Please. Meet Remus and Harry. It's a Hogsmeade weekend; Minerva suggested that we might like to have a picnic..."

"I... " Elen backed away, hesitant, arms full of ginger fluff. The completed potion regimen had made him stronger and had Healed the magical damage done by the Dementors and the Healers, and Crookshanks had helped him a lot as well, but he was no less reluctant to leave the safety of Grimmauld Place. "No. No, I don't think..."

"It'll be fun." Sirius kept his voice gentle. _It's not his fault; remember that._ "Hogwarts is beautiful. I loved it there. You can have a look at it from a distance and see how beautiful it is, and maybe one day you'll even want to go there." He smiled, sad. "You can't stay cooped up in here forever." _Because we both know that you have to testify in just over three weeks, and the less stressed_ _ **normal**_ _situations make you, the less stressful an_ _ **abnormal**_ _situation like that is going to be._

"My magic..."

"It won't hurt anyone now, Elen. You know that. You've been doing the exercises that Snape set and you have control now. Am I right or am I right?"

Elen bit his lip. "Yes, but..."

"Just us. Me and Remus and Harry and you. And Crookshanks if he wants to come." Crookshanks mewed grumpily. Sirius took hold of Elen's hand. "Come on – it'll be fun. You always listen when I tell you about Remus and Harry. You even laugh. Often. Like the time when Remus told Harry about trying to make me a _real_ Grim with the help of two massive bags of flour and repeated Sticking Charms, meaning I looked like a ghost and stuck to everything I touched for two weeks until it wore off. Try meeting them. Please." He smiled reassuringly. "Even for fifteen minutes. You lasted half that with Minerva when you met, and you didn't even have control of your magic then."

Elen hesitated, then decided. _Be brave. Sirius trusts them and the stories are funny. And if they're scary, I survived Dementors for more than just fifteen minutes, and Sirius will be there._ "No magic. They don't use magic on me. And you don't leave. And if someone else comes, we leave."

 _After weeks of asking, did he just_ _ **agree**_ _?_ "I'll call them right now and tell them. They will not use magic on you. And of _course_ I won't leave. And it'll be just us." Sirius tore into the living room after the mirror, leaving Elen holding Crookshanks tightly, hovering by the newel post and wondering what on earth had possessed him to agree to this. _Fifteen minutes. Fifteen minutes._

"Ready?" Sirius had re-entered the hallway, almost bouncing off the walls. Crookshanks launched himself out of Elen's arms and trotted up the stairs, turning halfway to send a reverberating purr Elen's way. Elen sighed.

"I guess he's not coming..." He turned back to Sirius. "Okay..."

Sirius put his arms around Elen and Disapparated.

* * *

Left behind, Kreacher paced the drawing room, glaring at the locket. _Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy it._ _The brat is trained now and strong enough to hold it off while Kreacher obeys his Master's last order, so Kreacher won't really be attacking him._ _But Kreacher needs the brat to open it before it can be destroyed. Kreacher heard him speaking Parseltongue._ He hissed between his teeth. _The brat won't even come in the room, and if Kreacher brings him by force the brat will never cooperate, and the blood-traitor will prevent Kreacher from trying again. What is a good house-elf like Kreacher to do?_

 _Master Regulus was a Slytherin. Kreacher must be like him. Kreacher must persuade the brat to teach_ _ **Kreacher**_ _how to open it..._

* * *

Sirius and Elen appeared at the mouth of a cave on a cliff overlooking the village. "People hardly ever come up here, so we should be fine. This is the place we were going to go if the Aurors broke through the wards on Grimmauld Place." He grinned. "Anyway... take a look over there, Elen. That's Hogwarts."

Elen gazed over at the castle. "It _is_ beautiful..." _I never thought wizards could make something beautiful._

Sirius slung an arm around Elen's shoulders. "Come on. If I remember rightly there should be a halfway-decent meadow down the track a little bit. Harry and Remus should be here in a few minutes; let's see whether we can get the picnic set up before they arrive."

Elen nodded, but didn't move, taking Sirius' hand. "You first."

Sirius shrugged. "Okay." He started walking, and Elen followed him. _See, Elen? Nothing to worry about._ He reached the place and flung himself down, pulling a picnic basket out of his pocket and restoring it to full size with one tap of his wand before pulling it open and almost burying his head inside it looking for the rug. Elen sat down stiffly beside him and ran his hand over the grass, and then turned to watch a bee in the wildflowers. _This is so different..._

"Sirius!" Remus had called from a fair distance away, wary of startling Elen. Sirius sat up and waved, head still stuck in the basket, food raining down into his lap. Elen laughed at this, but as Remus and Harry came closer the laugh shifted into a wary, cautious stare as he edged as close as he could to Sirius. Remus stopped and put out a hand to stop Harry. "Hello, Elen. It's nice to finally meet you."

"Hello," Elen said softly, slipping his hand into Sirius' for reassurance.

Remus smiled and sat down, beginning to set up a picnic for him and Harry where they were _._ "We brought the dessert, Sirius. Two packets of chocolate biscuits, and Harry got something with cream and fruit and an absolutely insane amount of marshmallows from the house-elves..."

"Ambrosia. And there's enough for twenty. They just don't know when to stop. Did you bring the sandwiches, Sirius?"

"Yeah, they're right... huh. I thought they were in the basket..."

Elen touched him on the shoulder and pointed down.

"Oh." Sirius gathered up the sandwiches and lobbed them underarm, one by one; keeping a deliberately straight face that Harry had learnt to see through within a week and neither Remus nor Elen had ever been fooled by. "Catch." _It's two picnics side by side for now, with two of us politely ignoring Elen to let him settle, but it's a lot better than one picnic and Elen not being here at all._ He passed a sandwich to Elen and pulled the wrapping off his own. "Enough chatter. Let's eat." Between bites, he joined in a half-joking argument about Quidditch with Harry and Remus, letting Elen fade into the background.

Sirius wolfed three sandwiches before Elen had even eaten half of one. Elen was more interested in keeping a watchful eye on Remus and Harry than eating, and his stomach was in knots anyway. He slowly began to shred the sandwich and toss it onto the grass. Noticing this, Remus rolled over to hide the drawing of his wand, and muttered " _Avis_." _If you're going to feed the birds, Elen, then we'll make birds for you to feed._

A canary fluttered to Elen's crumbs. Then another. And another. Elen smiled and shredded another sandwich, studying them, absentmindedly putting part of the sandwich in his mouth. Remus focused. _You. The one with the brown speckles. Go to him._

Elen froze as the canary alighted on his hand, then slowly smiled again, wondering. "Sirius, _look!_ "

Sirius laughed at the bird and the look on Elen's face, then looked sidelong at Remus. Remus gave a slight nod. _Tell him what I'm doing. It'll be all right._

 _If you say so_ , Sirius telegraphed with his eyebrows and a one-sided lift of his mouth. "Look at Remus, Elen. He's making birds for you." _Please, please let this work..._ Remus slowly twirled his wand once more, keeping it pointed firmly in the opposite direction to Elen, and another canary puffed out of thin air, landing on Remus' wand in a fluff of yellow feathers before fluttering over to the crumbs.

"How are you doing that?" Elen's voice was quiet and hesitant, but his eyes were shining and he was edging forward. Sirius felt like dancing a jig. _Moony, Moony, you are a genius of the highest standing! How did you connect with him so fast?_

"It's a spell. _Avis._ " Remus smiled over. "See? There's a black one. They only last about half an hour – they're not _real_ birds, after all – but they're pretty while they do last."

"But they ate my crumbs." Elen looked confused for a moment, then suddenly started to panic. "What happens when they stop lasting? Do they _die_?"

"No, of course not. They appear in a puff of feathers and they vanish in the same way." Remus smiled kindly. "Have you ever drawn pictures in a book and flipped the pages really fast to make it look like the picture's moving?"

Elen shook his head slowly, eyes beginning to show signs of wariness again. Remus dug in his pocket and pulled out an old notebook. "Here. Sirius can show you how it's done, and then I'll explain the rest of it. They _don't_ die, Elen. I promise." He tossed it over.

Sirius grimaced as he picked it up. "I'm pants at art." He scribbled for a few minutes, filling pages, then held the book upright and flipped quickly through. "A man at the start... and he's turning into a dog. See?" He looked at the final drawing critically. "Or maybe it's an octopus. Hard to tell..."

"Yes..." _But what does this have to do with the dying birds?_ Elen looked back at Remus.

"What Sirius just did with those pictures is a Muggle way of pretending that something is moving when it's really not. Magic just lets us take it a bit further," Remus continued. "As in, far enough to fool _all_ the senses, not just the eyes. We can't actually create life, Elen – those birds are no more alive than that series of stick figures is actually _one_ stick figure turning itself into a whatever-it-is. And since they're not alive, they can't die." He looked seriously at Elen. "If they were _actually_ alive and only lasted half an hour, I wouldn't have conjured them. That would be cruel."

 _Wizards_ _ **are**_ _cruel. But... maybe that's not actually true. I trust Sirius and he's a wizard. Perhaps he's not the only exception. Maybe, just maybe, the cruel wizards are the exception._ "Okay." He began to eat, still cautiously watching them, but more relaxed now. "Sirius? What's Quidditch?"

 _We have INTERACTION! True, he asked me rather than Harry or Remus, but he asked a question about the conversation that I was having_ _ **with**_ _them._ "Quidditch is a game played on broomsticks with two teams of seven players and four balls..." He continued enthusiastically. Harry interjected after about two minutes, explaining carefully that the game was played in mid-air and that the broomsticks flew, and then tried to describe what it was like to be a Seeker, with Sirius breaking in to wax lyrical about being a Beater. Elen was looking completely bewildered.

Remus had gone very quiet. He was thinking of something completely different. _That's a_ _ **Muggleborn**_ _question, and a basic one at that. A FOUR-year-old wizard-raised child would know that answer, and Elen was eight when he lost all contact with the outside world. Sirius hasn't realised; he's pureblood so he's talking to Elen as he would another pureblood wizard who just happened to be completely clueless about sports. But Harry at least suspects that Elen may have been Muggle-raised._ He tried to telegraph this to Sirius, but finally resorted to throwing a packet of biscuits at his head. "Enough!" His hands flashed in Marauder-sign, a curling of the last two fingers of the right hand and a touch of the thumb to the third finger. _Muggleborn. Slow down._

Horrified, Sirius whirled towards Elen, who jumped at the sudden movement and cringed down.

"Sirius, you're scaring him!" Harry leapt up and ran to the other picnic, not thinking of anything but protecting Elen from whatever had gone wrong with Sirius. Remus was just one second too late to grab him, and didn't dare haul him back with magic in case Elen misinterpreted the gesture. But there was one spell that he knew for certain that Elen was not afraid of – a spell that he even liked, and which would maybe distract him from his fright.

" _AVIS!_ "

A fat canary-yellow six-foot-tall ostrich poofed out of thin air just in time for Harry to run straight into its rear end. The ostrich shook its head, looking remarkably dim-witted even for an ostrich, and exploded into a fountain of feathers which promptly glued themselves all over Harry, making him look like an astounded bespectacled version of Big Bird. All four of them looked incredulously at each other in dead silence for two seconds, then Sirius collapsed in helpless laughter, and then they were all lost.

Remus was the first to recover. "Harry, come back here. Sirius, stop _scaring_ Elen; we can talk about it LATER. Elen... actually, just keep laughing hysterically at that ostrich, that's fine." _Three sharp shocks – Sirius, Harry, that absurd bird – in as many seconds. Right now, that ostrich is the best thing for him to be thinking about. I didn't even know that spell_ _ **could**_ _conjure up something like that in desperation. Then again, who would ever have used that_ _ **particular**_ _spell in desperation before?_ "And me... I'm just going to sit here and keep a straight face for as long as possible while I detach Harry's beautiful feathers."

Harry sat down next to Remus and stuck out his tongue for the down to be removed. Elen's laughter died slowly and he curled up, hugging himself and trembling. Sirius rested his hand on Elen's back. "I'm sorry I frightened you. I just... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to." _Muggle-raised. That actually makes sense of a whole lot of things, and makes a horror out of so much more. No_ _ **wonder**_ _he doesn't trust wizards!_ "That bloody ostrich, huh?" He rubbed Elen's back. _Come on, Elen. Start laughing again._

"I would like to leave now." _This has been fun, this has actually been mostly fun, but I can't take much more of it._

Sirius' face fell, but then he smiled. "Okay." _You lasted almost an hour. I'm proud of you._ He gathered together the sandwich wrappers and folded up the rug. "Harry, Remus – we're off. See you soon."

"See you then."

"Later."

"Wait," Elen whispered, pulling slightly away from Sirius. "Remus..." He hesitated, tried to speak twice, then gave up and pulled Sirius' head down.

Sirius grinned over at Remus. "He says thank you for finding Crookshanks."

"It was my pleasure, Elen." Remus smiled, and Sirius Side-Alonged him back home. Crookshanks gave him an ecstatic welcome, and he settled quickly, falling asleep curled around his cat on the tiger-skin rug. Sirius smiled and left them to it. _That cat's the best thing that could ever have happened to him. He hasn't woken up screaming once since Crookshanks arrived. And today he_ _ **almost**_ _willingly spoke to Remus when he was tired and stressed and recovering from a fright. We're getting there._ Surprised, he blinked at Kreacher, who had appeared with a warm throw and pulled it over Elen. Kreacher turned and snarled at him, then vanished again as Crookshanks growled softly. _Kreacher doesn't like Elen. He calls him "brat" as easily as he calls me "blood-traitor". So what on earth does he think he'll get out of pretending to be kind?_

 _I will never understand my family's insane house-elf. And it'd break my brain if I even tried. He's under direct orders to not attack Elen, and what else could he possibly do?_

* * *

 ** _Sirius_**

 ** _I was walking in the grounds and came across Remus and Harry carrying a bushel of bright yellow feathers, several of which gathered themselves together, flew at me, and gave me a tail. They said it was the fault of an exploding ostrich. I didn't know what to say back._**

 ** _This is clearly your fault. It has Sirius Black written all over it. Please explain to me, in small words, what exactly an exploding ostrich was doing at your picnic._**

 ** _Minerva_**

* * *

 ** _Hi Minerva_**

 ** _Thank you for sending us both into a fit of laughter to rival the one that happened when Remus accidentally conjured that thing. You may notice my quill shaking._**

 ** _In small words? The ostrich was exploding. Yellow everywhere and much hilarity. Is any other explanation even required?_**

 ** _Sirius_**

 ** _PS. I inadvertently frightened Elen and Harry tried to protect him, which would have scared him even more if Remus hadn't intervened. Remus knew that Elen actually_** ** _liked_** ** _the bird-conjuring charm, and performed it with all the force of desperation behind it. The bright-yellow and highly-unstable ostrich was the result. I don't know which of us was more stunned – Remus on seeing the monstrosity he'd conjured, Elen on seeing an ostrich appear out of thin air and then explode, me on seeing Harry run into its backside, or Harry on acquiring all its feathers after it exploded._**

 ** _PPS. Who, me? Surreptitiously perform an Attraction Charm on several ostrich feathers on the off chance that they'd get close enough to you before they dissolved again? I'm hurt that you could believe that of me._**

 ** _PPPS. Remus thinks that Elen might be Muggle-raised. Do you happen to have any way of finding out? It's not hugely important, but I'm curious now, and Elen doesn't understand what I'm talking about._**

* * *

 ** _Sirius_**

 ** _I shouldn't have asked, should I? I should have remembered that every time_** ** _you_** ** _explain the aftermath of a prank, I end up beside myself nursing a headache remedy. My alter ego is sipping a cup of tea on the couch beside me and wincing in sympathy. Metaphorically speaking._**

 ** _Regarding your question... I don't know. It could be that he just forgot about our world while he was imprisoned. Or it could be that he is indeed Muggle-raised. We may never know._**

 ** _Minerva_**

 ** _PS. I'm glad you finally managed to coax him out._**

* * *

 ** _Professor Snape_**

 ** _Thank you for facilitating Elen's Healing. I realise now that it wouldn't have worked without you, and I'm sorry I was so rude. Really._**

 ** _Elen's doing a lot better, but I wanted to ask... there's no way it could go out of control again, is there? For example at the trial, where he's going to have to take Veritaserum? He's beginning to get stressed about the possibility, and I don't want him stressing for almost a month if it's not going to happen._**

 ** _I also wanted... look, could we possibly call a truce until this mess with Dumbledore is over? I'll try if you will._**

 ** _Sirius Black_**

* * *

 ** _Black_**

 ** _If he is amenable the Healers and I will examine him this weekend. Bring him into St Mungo's at ten o'clock Saturday morning. There will be directions at the reception desk; just say you're there for an appointment with me and_** ** _please_** ** _try not to cause a riot._**

 ** _Elen should be able to stay in control under normal circumstances, as long as he's been completing the exercises I set him. Given what I've heard about his nature, I doubt he's been skiving off. But it would be a good idea to make certain._**

 ** _A truce. Until after the trial. Agreed. But if you break it, I will_** ** _m_** ** _... I will bewitch all your chocolate so that it turns into Brussels sprouts the moment you put it in your mouth._**

 ** _Professor Severus Snape_**

 ** _PS. I am doing you a huge favour here, Black. You can repay me by_** ** _never_** ** _telling anybody else that I made that particular threat. This letter will spontaneously combust ten seconds after you've read it._**

* * *

Snape closed his eyes and rested his chin in his hands. _I never thought I would ever **think** such an absurd threat as that, let alone put it to parchment. But if Black shares the letter with Elen, as it seems he is doing with all correspondence, I doubt Elen would see a threat to "murder" Black as anything but deadly serious. And I want to see our handiwork sometime in the next three millennia._

* * *

 ** _Professor Snape_**

 ** _St Mungo's, ten o'clock._**

 ** _Sirius Black_**

 ** _PS. All right. Without evidence nobody would believe me anyway._**


	12. Chapter 11

**Chapter Eleven**

At quarter to ten, Sirius Side-Alonged Elen into the foyer of St Mungo's and quickly pulled him out of the Apparation checkpoint. The foyer was packed, as always, which was why both him and Elen were wearing glamours: Sirius had darkened their skin and eyes and turned both their hair (and his own beard) to such a deep shade of auburn that it was almost black, then aged his own with wide streaks of grey. On seeing it, Elen had mentioned that Sirius looked like a wealthy pirate, which was why Sirius had decided to complete his disguise with a gold earring and a flaring blue greatcoat, although Elen had also told Sirius in no uncertain terms that either him _or_ the talking parrot could accompany Sirius to the hospital. Sirius had left the parrot behind to dissolve, but anybody who glanced up still had their attention promptly drawn to him rather than Elen, who had chosen dark, drab colours and was walking close to Sirius with his head down and his shoulders up, breathing deliberately in a stress-release pattern that Snape had described in the instructions he'd given Elen, and which Sirius could now recognise in his sleep.

"We're here to see Professor Snape and at least one Healer for a consultation."

The Welcome Witch smiled at both of them. Sirius smiled back. "Level Four. Take the elevator, turn left, fifth door on the right. If you hit the Janus Thickey Ward you've gone too far. Have a nice day. Next, please…"

"Thanks. Come on, Starling… ever been in an elevator before? You can drive people absolutely wild by pushing all the buttons _except_ for the floor where everyone's waiting…" He put his arm across Elen's shoulders and steered him inside, then quickly hit the button for the fourth floor before anybody else could join them. When the doors opened, Sirius took the lead again. _Left, fifth on the right._ He knocked and pushed the door open.

The two Healers looked up from where they were sitting on a comfortable couch, going over some notes. One of them stood up and came over.

"Sir, I think you might be lost. Where are you trying to get to?" His voice was kind but said that he wouldn't take any nonsense.

Sirius smiled. "I don't think so. We've got a consultation with Professor Snape. Hello again, Healer Perry."

Healer Perry came over. "Mr Black?" Sirius nodded. "Glamours."

Sirius nodded again. "We didn't want to start a riot."

Healer Perry smiled. "Very wise. Come inside; there's no sense in standing out in the corridor. Professor Snape is here, but he'll come in if and when he's needed; we need to do the preliminaries first and make sure that Elen does have control in normal situations." She shut the door behind them. "This is my colleague, Healer Franklin. He also specialises in the Healing of the mind, and he's had second-hand experience of this through trying to Heal Dolores Umbridge."

Sirius winced halfway through removing the glamours. "It took you out?"

"Yes, it did." Healer Franklin also winced. "But that's in the past." He smiled gently at Elen. "No blame apportioned. It's not like it was under control, Mr Riddle-"

" _Don't_ call me that." Elen's voice was harsh as he flinched away. "That's _his_ name."

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to offend you. Do you prefer to be called Elen?"

Elen ignored him, slipping into the breathing exercises again and turning towards Sirius. The Healers exchanged looks. _He's using the exercises as a crutch; hardly unexpected but not viable in the long term._

Sirius answered for him. "Yes. Elen's fine."

"All right." Healer Franklin walked around Sirius. "Could you turn him towards me, please? Thanks." He shone a Muggle penlight into Elen's eyes, observing them closely, leaving his wand in his robe pocket. "Elen, can you hear me?"

After a moment, Sirius shook him lightly. "Elen, answer him." _If you can._

"Yes. I can hear you."

"Good." Healer Franklin smiled. "Why don't we all come over here, and I'll explain what we're going to do." He directed Sirius and Elen to the couch with a slight wave of his hand, and took a seat in an armchair nearby as Healer Perry claimed the other armchair. "I understand you're worried about your magic going out of control when you have to take Veritaserum, Elen."

Elen nodded, half-afraid.

"Although it's highly uncommon, it does occasionally happen, and you're an unusual case. Legilimens almost always have a high degree of control over their own thought patterns; you are the opposite because of the terrible circumstances under which your magic took shape. Your magic, at its very core, is used to being utterly wild, to even _having_ to be completely wild in order to protect you; so any control will necessarily be weaker. What we need to do is to _test_ your control, in stages." He leaned forward. "I am going to ask you a series of simple questions. I need you to answer them. Okay?"

The next ten minutes were spent in an exchange of inanities. Whether the sun was cold or hot. Whether the Healers were wearing green. Whether Sirius' face was a hat. After seven minutes, Elen was calmly answering the inane questions, and Sirius was wondering whether he _had_ taken a wrong turn and brought Elen to a madhouse.

"Now, next stage. I am going to continue asking questions. Most of them will be just as ridiculous, but some of them will be serious. You need to keep answering them, and stay focused as much as you can. Mr Black, I understand you were a prankster at school?"

"Yes…" _What does this have to do with anything?_

"I need you to do your best to distract Elen from my questions. Bangs. Flashes. Incessant burping. Turn me purple with yellow dots. Even earworms if you absolutely must, although one single verse of _The Song That Never Ends_ and I'll rescind that. But _nothing_ that would scare him, _nothing_ that would affect the clarity of my questions – such as Silencing me, for example – and _nothing_ that can't be reversed with a single spell. Understand?"

"You want me to _prank_ you to make Elen fail?"

"No, Mr Black. I want you to prank the entire _room_ to help Elen succeed. Usually Healer Perry does this bit – she has quite a wicked sense of humour – but we both think it unwise in this situation. So, hit us all with your best shot. Elen, remember. Answer my questions, just like you were doing before. Okay?"

"Okay…"

Sirius laughed once. _He's thinking exactly what I was thinking: "what does this have to do with anything?"_

"If I drop a stone, will it fall?"

Sirius turned into a dog and bounced into Elen's lap. Taken by surprise, Elen yelped, but did manage to answer the question, pushing Sirius away.

 _Bad mistake, Elen. You should have kept me there..._ Sirius transformed back and retreated to the end of the couch wearing an innocent smile, Elen watching him warily. Healer Franklin clapped his hands. "Elen. I asked you another question." He nodded to Sirius. _Continue pranking, please. You can't possibly be out of ideas yet._ Green smoke started hissing from Sirius' end of the couch, forming itself into the shape of a rabbit, which hopped onto Healer Franklin's head and went to sleep, snoring to the tune of _God Rest Ye Merry Hippogriffs_. "What is the colour of my hair?"

"You're bald." Elen was finding the rabbit easier to deal with. Sirius blew multicoloured soap bubbles from the end of his wand and sent them to attack Elen, popping five against his own skin first to show Elen that it was safe. "What's the earliest memory you have?"

"I..." Elen twisted around to face the back of the couch and slipped back into the breathing pattern, hands to his head. Healer Franklin smiled. "All right, Elen. All right." He withdrew a recorder from his other pocket and began to play _Frere Jaques_ , constantly and deliberately getting stuck on the third line, nodding to Sirius to keep going _._ Elen covered his ears, but kept breathing to the pattern. Sirius cast a Selective Deafness charm on himself and promptly proceeded to dye all the occupants of the room with moving purple and green polka dots. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Healer Perry cast a powerful Itching Hex straight into the middle of Elen's back; Elen jerked around and began to scratch frantically, trying to soothe it, the breathing pattern broken by whimpers and sobs. _And as soon as this is over, you're going to explain to me exactly what you're playing at. You're hurting Elen, and you'd better have a really good reason._

"Elen. Two plus two is what?"

"Four." The answer was stressed and desperate. "Stop it! Please!" Sirius lifted his wand to remove the hex, but Healer Perry shook her head straight at him and mouthed _Trust me._ Sirius lowered his wand again, against his better judgement, but given how Elen's first Healing had gone decided to trust.

"Elen, focus." Healer Perry made several loud bangs from right behind Elen, who leapt off the couch in fright and retreated instantly into Sirius' arms, disrupting the inflatable giraffe, which went whizzing around the room as the air farted out. "Elen, WHAT IS THE AIRSPEED VELOCITY OF AN UNLADEN SWALLOW?"

Elen tore at his head. "I don't know! Please... please..."

Healer Perry smiled and removed the hex. "Mr Black, could you please reverse all the nonsense you've inflicted around here?"

Sirius waved his wand and lifted all the pranks, shaking his head. Elen looked at him in confusion, shying away from the Healers.

Healer Franklin leant forward earnestly. "Veritaserum is one-third distraction and one-third overwhelming, Elen. You can't really focus on anything, meaning that you can't stop whatever you're thinking of from going _straight_ to your mouth without your brain interfering. That's what we just tried to replicate. But our main focus was on doing something much more important. Look around, Elen. Is anybody hurt?"

Elen shook his head slowly, eyes widening. "No," he whispered, astonished.

"Did you stop doing the breathing exercises _before_ you felt calm and safe?"

"Yes." Elen was even more surprised, almost disbelieving. "Nobody was hurt? Really?"

"Nobody was hurt," Sirius confirmed, a huge grin slowly appearing on his face. _So_ _ **that's**_ _why you hit him with that hex and then deliberately frightened him. I'm glad that I don't have to defenestrate you through your own magical window._

"Were you frightened?"

"Yes." Elen shivered. "Yes."

"Were you overwhelmed?"

"Yes."

"But your magic didn't obliterate us – thank you for practicing your exercises so diligently, by the way." Healer Perry smiled, and hesitantly, Elen smiled back. "The exercises Severus gave you are a safety net, so that even if you _are_ distracted and overwhelmed and frightened, as long as you've kept the net in good repair and there's nothing unduly influencing your mind, it won't snap."

"I don't understand..."

"As long as you keep doing those exercises regularly, in normal situations your magic won't hurt anybody," Healer Franklin translated. "However, at this point we have to bring in Professor Snape, because the final component of Veritaserum is what makes it an _abnormal_ situation." He smiled grimly. "Compulsion. And for that, we have to leave. Because if it's going to go out of control, it'll do it while you're fighting that."


	13. Chapter 12

**Chapter Twelve**

" _You're_ going to cast the Compulsion Charm on Elen?" Sirius took a deep breath, and looked over at Snape, keeping the truce firmly at the front of his mind. "Why can't I do it? It'll panic him less..."

"No, Black." Professor Snape stared him down. "Elen trusts you far too much. If you told him to act like a teapot trying to polish silver, he would do it _for_ _love of you_." The last four words were twisted sourly. "The entire point of this exercise is to impose an outside control that Elen does _not_ trust and will _not_ automatically obey, cast by somebody whose mind will not be shredded if he _does_ lose control. _Me_ , Black. And it won't be the Compulsion Charm. It's too easily-resisted to replicate the last third of what makes Veritaserum so powerful." He smiled thinly and shot from the hip, hitting Elen dead-on. A bare instant later, he easily shielded himself from Elen's instinctive lashing-out against the compulsion to obey as Sirius caught his thrashing body.

"Stop that _this instant_ , Elen."

Elen stopped immediately, breath rough.

"Come here, Elen."

Elen pushed Sirius away and walked over to stand by Snape's side, trembling, a low half-growl sounding in his throat as his eyes showed his resistance. Snape looked dryly at Sirius. "Charming habit he's picked up there. Talk in your sleep, do you?"

"How the hell did you stop that in its tracks like that?" Sirius followed Elen with his eyes. "He _can't_ stop it once it starts; it has to rage itself out all by itself..."

Snape rested his hand on Elen's shoulder, causing an outbreak of shivering. "I'll remind you _before_ I answer that question that I did swear a really rather potent oath to the effect that I intend Elen _no harm._ As for the question, the Imperius Curse is almost impossible to resist, even when the master orders something beyond the slave's normal ability to perform. And now we know that it is _theoretically_ possible for Elen to stop a fit dead in its tracks. Whether he can ever learn to do it _consciously_ is another matter entirely... Elen, that's enough. I order you to _stop resisting the curse_."

All the fight in Elen's eyes died away, and Sirius saw the fogbanks rolling in as he stopped shivering and relaxed completely. Snape rolled up his sleeves and turned Elen's unresisting head towards him, examining his clouded eyes with satisfaction. "A cheat, but one that works. Even somebody with natural inclination to resist – like your Elen – has no chance at all against what amounts to two Imperius curses working in tandem." He looked up. "Black, stop frothing like that. All I'm going to force him to do is to tell the truth. Just like Veritaserum. And then I will lift the curse, and give him time to calm down, and then we will try him with a five-minute dose of _actual_ Veritaserum and see whether the other two facets override his reaction against forcible control. If they do, then there is no reason for him to fear being given it at the trial. So _calm down_."

Sirius grimaced, grinding his teeth. "I'm calm. I'm calm."

Snape raised one eyebrow sceptically but said nothing. _Yes, fine, you're calm. And if you believe that, I have a Self-Spelling Wand to sell you and it'll only cost you_ _ **half**_ _your Gringotts vault._ "Elen, answer all my questions truthfully and immediately. Do you understand?"

"Yes."

"What is your name?"

"Elen."

Snape frowned, then smiled appreciatively. "Clever, Elen. I order you to answer all my questions _fully_ , truthfully, and immediately. What is your name?"

"Elen."

"What is your surname? Your _other_ name?" Snape was warring between curiosity and exasperation. Sirius was keeping a determinedly straight face, but Snape could tell that he wanted to laugh.

"Starling?" Elen's voice betrayed uncertainty. Sirius and Snape looked at each other. _Apparently his rejection of Voldemort goes all the way down to bedrock level. Sweet_ _ **Merlin**_ _, what has Dumbledore done?_

Snape's attention had been caught. _We shall get to the bottom of this, even if we have to go backwards and sideways all the way. I didn't intend to hold the Imperius on him, but answering these questions won't hurt him and it is_ _ **fascinating**_ _._ "What is your birth father's name?"

"Tom Riddle."

"Harry told us that was Voldemort's real name," Sirius interjected. Snape jerked his head in acknowledgement.

"What is your father's name?"

"Dad."

Sirius put his face in his hands. "That is a mental image I could have lived without," he said weakly.

 _For once, Black, we entirely agree._ "Is Tom Riddle your dad?"

"No."

Both Sirius and Snape let out a sigh of relief. "Where did you live before Azkaban?" _Let's see whether we can find out something about your past._

"I don't know."

 _Damn it. But he obviously remembers at least **something** about at least one of his parents, so... _"Do your parents live together?"

"They live together now."

Snape blinked, then winced internally. _Never mind, then._

Sirius leant forward. "Who are they, Elen?" _Do you actually have a_ _ **home**_ _?_

Snape shook his head slowly at Sirius, eyes solemn and dark. "He obviously has no idea, Black. Weren't you listening? And there is only one way for him to know that his parents live together now when he can't even tell us who they are. You're thinking on the wrong side of the Veil, Black... Elen, when did your parents die?" Snape's voice was gentler than it had yet been.

"Mum died when I was born. Dad died when I was six."

"Black, he believes in an afterlife. With all his heart he believes that human souls go somewhere after their bodies die... ergo the absolute rejection of the Dark Lord and all he stands for," he finished thoughtfully. "But just to make sure... Elen, is that what you believe?" _And if yes, I wonder how on earth you still believe that even after being incarcerated in Azkaban. But I can wait until you are ready to talk willingly. This has developed into a conversation that I cannot feel comfortable compelling. It strikes far too close to the bone._

"Yes."

"Elen, go back to Black. Black... get a firm grip, please; I doubt he'll attack again, but I'll eat my own wand if he doesn't try to run." He waited for Sirius to wrap his arms around Elen and then lifted the Imperius.

Elen bolted, getting tangled with Sirius and bringing them crashing to the floor in a heap. Snape sat down in one of the armchairs and began writing notes, pretending to ignore them, although once Sirius got his arms around Elen again and managed to soothe his panic slightly, he saw Snape glancing up every so often.

"Sirius...?" Elen's breath was coming in shaken sobs. "Did I really say all that?"

Sirius hugged Elen tightly as he cried, almost crying himself. "Yes." _I will not tell you about the Dementor's Kiss. I will never, ever tell you about the Dementor's Kiss. You've managed to keep your belief alive even though you've lived through literal hell. I will not be the one to destroy it._

"Black." Sirius looked up at Snape's voice. "The Veritaserum's right here. One five-minute dose – combined with a lot of water, so don't look at me like that, Black; it's not an overdose. You can dose him and _you_ can ask the questions this time. I do suggest that you stick with inane this time around." He looked at Elen, who flinched and hid against Sirius. "In fact, Black, you can even Silence me. You have my permission. Elen, that means that **_only_** your friend Black gets to ask you questions that you have to answer. You've mastered two aspects of Veritaserum and those two should override the panic reaction you had at the start of the compulsion testing." He looked back at Sirius. "The Veritaserum wears off by itself after five minutes; it doesn't need an antidote at this miniscule dosage. Silence me, Black, and get on with it."

 _When this is over, I am getting my head checked. I am actually starting to_ _ **like**_ _Severus Snape._ " _Silencio. Accio._ " He opened the lid of the vial and smiled. "And here you go. I'm a poet and I didn't know it..."

"Five minutes and then we can go back home?" Elen sounded drained.

Sirius glanced up at Snape, who nodded once. "Yes. We can go home after this."

Elen drank and his body relaxed into limpness, no fight evident at all. Snape smiled, satisfied. _And the verdict is that a) Veritaserum is safe for him to be given and b) he truly_ _ **does**_ _trust Sirius Black far too much._ As Sirius began to ask questions, all along the lines of _What's your favourite colour?_ (orange) and _Describe the picnic we had last week?_ and Elen to answer them, Snape focused on observing Elen's mental condition and tuning out the voices. _I've already had to defend myself against a savage instinctual attack, even though we all expected it to happen and prepared for it, and then had to willingly submit myself to being Silenced by Sirius Black. This day is quite bad enough without having to listen to inanity as well. On the positive side, I got to see the result of our Healing... and it's done what we hoped for._

* * *

 **Author's Note: Veritaserum is like a combination of the Imperius curse and being really, really distracted and overwhelmed... compelled to think of everything you know in relation to the question, and compelled to talk, and distracted enough to not be able to stop whatever's in your thoughts going straight to your mouth, because your conscious mind gets overwhelmed and therefore can't exert control over what you're saying. Or at least that's my headcanon concept of how it works.**


	14. Chapter 13

**Author's Note: I realised I'd forgotten to mention another influence on this story. The essayist Red Hen made a passing mention in one of her essays that not training a wizard's magic caused it to break out wildly, resulting in seizures (Wizards and Muggles, Part 2). This isn't exactly what ended up happening with Elen's magic, but it was the germ of the idea and therefore I really ought to acknowledge it.**

* * *

 **Chapter Thirteen**

"They're almost ready for you," Sirius told Elen in a small room off the court, where he'd slipped in to visit. Strictly speaking, this wasn't allowed, but Sirius _and_ Minerva _and_ Snape had each separately and vigorously argued the point with Minister Bones and she'd finally capitulated, although she had insisted on an Auror being present at all times, both to protect Elen and to ensure that nothing was mentioned that could influence Elen's testimony. The problem had then become finding an Auror that Elen would accept. Every single Auror who had passed his cell in Azkaban was out of the question; it turned out that Elen had an almost uncanny memory for other people's minds and would cling to Sirius whenever they appeared, shutting down and becoming well nigh on unreachable. (This wrench in the plan had vetoed a full half of the Auror Corps, and Rufus Scrimgeour had given the entire squad a furious lecture on the importance of actually _paying attention_.) The Auror had eventually had to be Kingsley Shacklebolt and his final-year _trainee_ Auror, because N. Tonks was the only one that Elen had even marginally settled down around; probably because her entrance with her mentor Kingsley had begun with her falling over her own feet and then a long reminiscence with Sirius about certain pranks she'd played and how they'd stacked up against certain pranks _he'd_ played. Elen had shyly mentioned the already-legendary ostrich and that was that. Over a period of four days, Tonks had slowly managed to get Elen to calm down around Kingsley, but that only barely and only when she was in the room. Kingsley had laughed kindly at the preference, taking no offence whatsoever, and had told Sirius in private that it was a good opportunity for his enthusiastic trainee to learn a little bit firsthand about handling a nervous, fragile witness. "Are you feeling okay?"

"No," Elen replied bluntly, tense as a wand bent to cracking point. "No, I'm not. But this can't be allowed to happen again, so I'll just have to manage."

"You'll be fine," Tonks said from behind Sirius. "All you have to do is tell the truth, and since you'll be taking Veritaserum, everyone will know you're not lying. You don't even have to figure out what you're going to say or how you'll say it."

"Yes..." Elen rocked himself, both hands spread over his face, pressing the fingertips in. "I know they won't hurt me. I know they'll believe me. But I don't _believe_ it..."

 _And that's the problem._ Once again, Sirius started to quietly explain that there were bad wizards and there were good wizards, and that there were very many more good wizards than bad ones. _Sooner or later, Elen, you will believe this._ _The more kindness, the more goodness, that wizards show you will help you to believe this one day with all your heart. You trust five of us enough to be alone with now, even if I do have to keep coming back in here every twenty minutes by the clock to resettle you around Tonks. Before you met me, you didn't even trust **one** wizard. Give it two, three years... you'll believe. _

A knock at the door, but the witch didn't open it, having been warned most thoroughly by three different Aurors and Minister Bones herself _against_ doing so. There was even a large sign on her side of it, saying IF YOU CAN READ THIS SIGN, DO NOT UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCES OPEN THIS DOOR. "We're ready for you now, Elen. Come on in."

"Okay, Elen. Go with Kingsley and Tonks now," Sirius said softly. "I'll be in the gallery, second row, right next to Remus. Nothing bad is going to happen." He gave Elen a tight good-luck hug and left quickly. Elen stared at the closing door for a second, then shuddered and rubbed his arms, turning towards Tonks as if facing the gallows.

"Hey. Chin up. You're okay."

Elen shook his head. "Let's just get this over with..." He walked towards them reluctantly, shoulders hunching up.

"We're right here, Elen." Kingsley held the corridor door open for him, and Tonks followed. "Nobody is going to hurt you. We won't let them."

"Come on, Elen." Tonks came up beside him and took his hand. "You're okay. You're okay." She focused and her hair fluffed out and turned bright yellow. Elen breathed a single laugh and walked into the courtroom, her and Kingsley flanking him.

"You're looking well, Elen." Albus Dumbledore smiled at him from the chintz armchair in the middle of the clear space directly in front of the judge's box, his eyes merrily twinkling. Elen promptly turned tail and Kingsley only just managed to stop him from bolting straight back out the door; Tonks whipped her wand up to a defensive position and moved to block Dumbledore's line of sight. A collective gasp went up from the gallery.

"Dumbledore!" Amelia Bones rapped the gavel. "You were _expressly_ told not to talk to Elen. If you have something to say your representation can say it, and it had _better_ be relevant and appropriate or so help me..."

"My apologies, Amelia." Dumbledore smiled up at her. "My memory is not exactly what it once was. May I apologise to Elen?"

Amelia Bones gave him a long, hard look, glanced over at Kingsley (who had managed to swap places with Tonks to let _him_ defend and _her_ reassure), and shook her head decidedly. "No, Mr Dumbledore. No. You are not to say another word to Elen." Dumbledore bowed his head in graceful acquiescence and turned once more to look at the tableau by the main doors, as did the prosecutor and the defence counsel. After a few seconds with no further forward movement, the DC spoke.

"Is there any possibility of questioning the _only_ witness to Headmaster Dumbledore's _alleged_ malfeasance sometime this week?" Dumbledore immediately shushed him, shaking his head. _Do not give Elen Riddle an excuse to avoid testifying because he is "afraid", Mr Winston. I already made that mistake by being friendly to him to get him to relax his guard; it quite clearly backfired and his guard is up even higher than it was before. However, regardless of how guarded he is and how frightened he is pretending to be, Veritaserum would compel even Voldemort himself to speak the truth. After we're done here, everybody will see that I truly was protecting Harry all along... under Veritaserum, Riddle has to answer whatever questions are asked of him with total candour, and then **everyone**_ _will see the threat he poses._

 _But in the interests of putting this whole sorry state of affairs behind us so that he's sent back to Azkaban where he belongs and I can get Harry ready to battle Voldemort to save us all..._

"Minister Bones? Would it perhaps help if I were to leave until he is actually in the witness box? Or even until after he's been given Veritaserum?" He looked up at her, wearing an embarrassed smile. "After all, if I'm the one making him so very nervous..."

Amelia Bones blinked. "That... is a good idea. If you would, Mr Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore shrugged, stood up, and walked through the rear door that led to the cells. Snape, in the fourth row with Healers Perry and Franklin, let out a low, irritated huff. _Manipulative as ever, Headmaster. Well, that won't do you much good when Elen is forced to answer questions **completely truthfully**. _

"Elen, come on," Tonks said softly. She and Kingsley led him up to the witness stand. Sitting there, Elen looked frail and scared, and he tensed even further as the bailiff approached with the Veritaserum, before suddenly relaxing. Tonks bit back an entirely inappropriate laugh. She was the only one in a position to see the tabby cat with spectacle markings that had just jumped into Elen's lap, and also the only one to see Elen quickly flip a layer of his outer robe over Minerva McGonagall to hide her. _This is most **certainly** not allowed. We tried so hard to let him have Crookshanks with him, and came up against court protocol and goodness knows what. But nobody has noticed except me, and I am not going to say a word. In fact, the moment we're out of here I am going to buy Minerva McGonagall the largest and most expensive box of Scotch chocolates that my salary can afford. She must have been hiding under that seat since sunrise. And... yes, that's Harry's Invisibility Cloak under there, too. I take my hat off to you, Professor McGonagall. I take my hat off to you._

"Testing... what is your full name?"

"Elen."

Amelia Bones sighed. "Severus Snape has told me all about this very confusing conversation, Bailiff Milton. We don't need to have it again. Ask him something else to test it."

Milton blinked. "Okay..." His mind went blank. _Another question... think. Think, think..._ "Can you hear me?" _What an inane question. Still, it'll do._

"Yes."

Milton nodded briskly and stepped aside. "He's under."

Amelia Bones waited for Dumbledore to re-enter the courtroom and take his seat again, and then indicated to the prosecution that they could start.

"How old are you, Elen?"

"Fifteen and almost a month."

"How long were you in Azkaban for?"

"Almost six years."

"I'm sure everybody in this courtroom can do basic mathematics, but just for the record... how old were you on your first night in Azkaban?"

"Eight." Outraged whispering erupted throughout the court. DC Winston stood up.

"That must have been a terrible experience, Mr Riddle."

No response. Amelia Bones tapped her gavel.

"Counsel, did you not read the briefing on this? Or hear his response to the test question about his full name? As far as Elen's concerned, the name _Riddle_ doesn't belong to him and never has. If you use that name while he's under Veritaserum, he simply won't realise that you're talking to him."

"It must have slipped my mind. That must have been a terrible experience, _Elen._ " The name was shot through with sarcasm.

"It was."

"What was it that made you so very dangerous that you had to be locked away at such a very young age?"

"I don't know."

"Well..." DC Winston smiled, like a knife. "Perhaps you can enlighten us with your best guess?"

"Dumbledore must be either insane or evil or both, to imprison me in Azkaban for somebody else's crimes."

DC Winston blinked, completely thrown. _That was not the answer I was expecting._ The prosecutor spoke up again.

"So as far as you're aware, you have done nothing that would merit a sentence to Azkaban?"

"I have done nothing that would justify that."

"In your view, would _any_ crime justify a sentence to Azkaban?" DC Winston asked. _Just so we're clear. And if he says no..._

"No."

DC Winston smiled. _I have you now._ "I move to strike Mrs Greenwood's previous question. If he believes that _nothing_ , no matter how heinous, merits a sentence to Azkaban, then his statement cannot be taken as one of innocence – simply that he believes he does not deserve to be sentenced there. No matter _what_ he's done."

Minister Bones nodded. "I agree. Strike it."

Mrs Greenwood closed her eyes for a second. _Elen, Elen, I wish you hadn't said that... I can't argue with their conclusion there..._

Dumbledore smiled. _Well done. We're on the right track. Now we can get onto what he's **done** , and he won't be able to escape the implications of that. And we'll start with the most serious incident – the one that led me to conclude, once and for all, that he was evil to the very core. _He whispered something to DC Winston, who immediately asked, "Describe the magic you used on Chloe Williams when she was twelve."

"She was upset because her kitten was hit by a truck and they just left it lying in the road and she found it. I showed her a dream of the kitten playing, and I made it fly, and I gave it a sister and a brother, and they were all happy. I wanted to make her feel better. But she pushed me over and ran away, and she wouldn't talk to me, and she was _scared_ of me... I never wanted her to be scared of me; I just wanted her to not be sad."

Dumbledore sank back, thunderstruck, as the "right track" crumbled away from under him. _Oh no..._ He frantically thought back to what he'd seen when he'd investigated Elen, the dead cat and the crying girl shining in his thoughts, the mental link imposed on her, the conclusions he'd drawn, Elen's charm and smiles during the week he'd secretly followed him so _similar_ to the way Tom had behaved at Hogwarts, and the deliberate use of Legilimency to terrorise another child had been the final straw. Except that Elen's motive had apparently been to _help_ her, and he'd simply made a mistake by choosing the wrong way to do it. _Did I **overlay** Tom on his child because I was afraid of what Elen could become? No, of course I didn't. I wouldn't do something like that. Of course not. There has to be another explanation._

DC Winston tried to salvage the situation. "You deliberately used magic on a Muggle child to force her to feel something you wanted her to feel."

"No. I showed her the kitten as an angel to give the story a happy ending, so that she'd be happy all by herself. I didn't force her."

"But you've forced people since, haven't you?" Elen broke in with a dull _yes_ and DC Winston smiled as he continued speaking. "Just like your _father._ Tell us in detail about all your attacks on other people since you left your cell in Azkaban, the most recent one first. And _why._ " He smiled again, satisfied. _You left yourself wide open there, Riddle. After everybody hears about all the horror you've perpetrated, they'll see that you **are** just like You-Know-Who and, therefore, that Albus Dumbledore has nothing at all to answer for. I **know** that we will not have heard about everybody you've attacked, that you'll have hushed it up somehow... well, Riddle, now's your chance to tell us **everything**._

Elen took a deep, shaky breath. "I attacked Professor Snape in the hospital when he hit me with a spell and his voice was in my head and I couldn't think and I just wanted him _out_ but he told me to stop it and I had to obey him, he was too strong, but I don't know _how_ I stopped it. I attacked Healer Perry when the burning cage was all around me and getting tighter and tighter and I couldn't get out and it _hurt_ me, it hurt so much, everything I did made it hurt, I couldn't control it and it had to _stop!_ " His voice rose to a cracked yell on the last word.

"The Healing," Amelia Bones breathed, sharp pity stabbing at her. _I'm hardly an expert in the magical Healing of the mind, and I did know that you had to be kept out of the way to keep you from lasting damage. But I didn't realise that it had hurt you._

Elen continued without pausing. "I attacked Minerva in Remus' house because she was a cat and that was fine, but then she was suddenly a _witch_ and I didn't mean to, I really didn't, but I was so scared, I was scared of all magical people except for Sirius when I met Minerva, and it got loose and Sirius took me home and Minerva got better really fast and I'm relieved I didn't hurt her too much."

Under the shelter of Elen's robe, Minerva purred softly and kneaded Elen's leg. _I'm relieved too. I must have been crazy to agree to meet you when I **knew** you didn't have control._

"I attacked Dolores Umbridge when she tried to hurt Sirius, she was savouring it even though he wasn't being hurt yet, she was _imagining_ it and all the times she's done it before, her whole mind was full of screams and her pleasure, it was awful and I just reacted, you have no _idea_ what it's like hearing your own screaming being lovingly imagined by somebody else..."

"That's enough Dolores Umbridge, Elen," DC Winston cut in, looking green. _Any more of that and we'll have the entire courtroom, including me, outraged on your behalf. I am being paid to force you to tell the truth and clear Albus Dumbledore's name, and this sideline isn't helping._

Elen stopped short, then continued.

"I attacked the Dementors when they trapped us in the corridor and they were so _hungry_ for the key, their people were screaming and begging for it, they're pleading for help, but they can't get out and they're all shredded together like torn cloth in a whirlwind of knives and there's _so many voices_ and none of them are whole. Sirius says I did something to drive them away, so it must have reacted, but the only thing I remember is the cold and the pulling and them pleading and crying. Those are all the people I have attacked."

In the audience, Sirius went dead white and convulsively twisted to bury his face in Remus' shoulder. _Those voices I heard when Elen's magic sideswiped me in Azkaban **were the victims of the Dementor's Kiss**. Oh, Merlin, I'm going to throw up... _He shook his head sharply when Remus asked him what was wrong, and just let Remus hold him as he trembled, trying to find comfort in his friend's hug. _You do not want to know, Moony. You do not **ever** want to know._

"If that's anything like the way You-Know-Who thinks, I'm the love child of a Thestral and an Erumpet," Mrs Greenwood blurted out as DC Winston felt for his chair and sat down shakily. "That last bit made absolutely no sense! Dementors do _not_ beg for help..." _... do they? He can't be lying. He's dosed to the gills with Veritaserum. Dementors begging for help – I can't believe that. It's ludicrous. But why would he think they did?_

DC Winston opened his mouth and shut it again, shaking his head and mouthing wordlessly. _That's it? That's all of them? That's hardly anyone! And I can't use any of those reasons against him... oh, he's clever... but why on earth did he just include Dementors in a list of **people**?_

"Minister, I think what we've just heard makes it obvious that Elen Riddle is completely insane, and given that, he's a danger to everybody he encounters," Dumbledore said quietly. _Everybody knows that once a soul is lost to a Dementor, that's it. It's gone. Since Elen Riddle is telling the exact truth the way he sees it, the only option is that he is completely insane and seeing things which are not there. Harry **must** be protected from him – even more so now. There is no knowing what an insane person will take it into their minds to do._

DC Winston nodded with a soft smile, seeing Dumbledore's change of tactics. _However, he's clearly not clever enough_. _Not against Albus Dumbledore. He's opened himself to the accusation of insanity, since no sane person would believe what he obviously believes to be true, so now we can use **that** against him, and free Albus Dumbledore that way..._

Under Elen's robe, Minerva tensed and dug her claws in, feeling the oath start to pull at her. _He's in danger of being sent **back**_... _how in Merlin's name am I going to keep my word?_ The gallery was buzzing with whispers and Remus was having a desperate and physical fight with Sirius in the second row, trying to wrench his wand from his hand, thinking _Sirius if you blow Dumbledore to bits **you** will be sent back no matter how much he deserves it so PLEASE don't, we'll get him out..._

Amelia Bones shook her head. "For now I'm inclined to disagree." Minerva almost collapsed with relief. "Just because it doesn't agree with what we know doesn't necessarily mean that he's mad. And dangerous he may well be, but nobody's suffered any permanent harm except Dolores Umbridge and I'm sure that even you will concede that it was plainly self-defence."

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as he thought. He opened his mouth, but DC Winston beat him to it, signing to him to please be quiet and not push his luck. "With all due respect, Minister, he certainly isn't normal, and the only other obvious option is madness. Perhaps a stay in the closed ward of St Mungo's would be beneficial... and as you know, the testimony of an insane witness is inadmissible, so we can simply drop the charges –"

 _I hadn't thought of that option, but it will do just as well. The only way out of that ward is for Elen Riddle to manage to convince them that he is sane, and given the madness that just came out of his mouth that's not going to happen. And Harry will be safe from him._

"Sirius, no!" Remus grabbed Sirius as he leapt to his feet. "You don't have any _proof_ that he's sane!" _St Mungo's isn't as bad as Azkaban – as if anywhere could be. He'll be miserable and afraid and he'll probably regress, but he's met two of the Healers, they'll at least be kind to him there until we can get him out again, and they'll certainly at least let **you** visit._ He pulled Sirius back down, holding him gently but with full werewolf strength behind the grip. "We can't have you arrested for wasting court time; Elen will need you more than ever..."

"I don't believe this!" Mrs Greenwood cut in. _Insane or not, he deserves this trial to be fair and complete, and I'm going to do my best. He may not have been insane when he went **in** , even if he clearly is now. _"Are you seriously saying that you expect Elen to have walked out of _Azkaban Prison_ unscathed? If he is... if he is perhaps a bit unbalanced... it's hardly –"

"Elen is not _insane!_ " Snape shoved his way through the gates separating the gallery from the court, furious, his patience completely spent; two equally-furious Healers matching him stride for stride. Sirius let out a startled laugh and sank back in his seat to watch. _Severus Snape swooping to the rescue like an overgrown bat, with an entourage of Healers in his wake. If it wasn't Elen's freedom on the line I'd think this was hilarious. Heck, I'd even bring popcorn._

Mrs Greenwood stumbled to a halt, taken completely by surprise. _If he's not insane, then... NO!_ She sat down, ceding the floor to Snape. _I don't think I want to think about the implications of that._

Bailiff Milton moved to block Snape, who broke off in the middle of a sentence to deal with it. "Elen was – yes, _what_? Fine, yes, I swear to tell the truth, so if I could possibly be left to _get on with telling it..._ "

While Snape had been momentarily distracted by the bailiff, the Healers had also begun to talk, very loudly and both at once.

"I'm the Healer-in-charge of the closed ward, and if Elen's sent to me I'm discharging him immediately; I _refuse_ to keep a sane person locked up just because it's convenient..."

"... the _only_ other obvious option? The ONLY one? Tell me, Counsel, exactly how _many_ people who've had their magic shaped under the influence of Dementors..."

"ONE AT A TIME!" Amelia Bones pounded the gavel. "Thank you. Now. Who's first?"

"Minister." Snape stepped forward and bowed slightly. "Elen is not insane. We are all specialists, we have all treated the damage that Azkaban inflicted on him, and we all agree that he is not insane." He turned to look at Dumbledore, eyes cold with disgust and disillusion, and it was Dumbledore who looked away first. "Tell me, Headmaster. What would you get if a sensitive, untrained child with a powerful natural inclination for the mental arts was kidnapped and sent to a place where people's minds are routinely ripped open? Assuming this hypothetical child survived, of course." He smiled sarcastically. "If you don't know, you could always enlighten us with your best guess." A ripple of gasps echoed through the gallery as roughly half the onlookers realised what Snape was driving at.

Dumbledore opened his mouth, but nothing came out.

"No? Well, there's somebody here who does know and won't hesitate to tell the truth about it. Elen, what do you think we would get?"

"Someone like me."

" _Someone like Elen_ ," Snape spat. "If you could possibly see further than the ends of your own noses you'd realise what you were dealing with here."

Healer Franklin placed a hand on Snape's arm and spoke to Dumbledore in a measured, even voice. "I noticed that you're basing your assumption that Elen is insane on one statement he made. One about the nature of Dementors."

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat and pressed the tips of his fingers together. "Dementors do not function in the way Riddle just described. The Dementor's Kiss does not function in the way he just described either. There is no escaping the conclusion that Riddle is completely mad."

"I have one question that I would like both you and Elen to answer. How many times have you used Legilimency on a Dementor?"

Dumbledore shut his mouth with a snap, over Elen's toneless response of "I don't remember. Too many."

"I think perhaps Elen knows more about the way Dementors function than anybody else in this courtroom. Wouldn't you agree, Minister Bones?"

Amelia Bones sighed. "It would appear so." _If the victims of the Dementor's Kiss are truly still around, if they're imprisoned there, if Elen heard them begging and pleading for release for almost six years straight while also trying to defend himself from their **usual** torture, having no more control than pure instinct could give... it's quite frankly a wonder that he **isn't** mad._

"I also have something to say." Healer Perry drew herself up. "When Severus and I Healed Elen, he had been hurt more badly than almost anyone either of us had ever seen. But we did it. We Healed him and redirected his Legilimency so that it is possible to control, as it certainly was not before the Healing. So almost everything you have heard about the people he has attacked... all those attacks were entirely outside of his control and he cannot be blamed for them, no more than somebody under the Imperius Curse can be blamed for anything they do. The only time he has lost control since the Healing is when Professor Snape, under my _direct_ supervision and _for medical reasons_ , meaning that it was _legal_ , used the Imperius Curse on him to test the extent of his control when faced with a threat that tries to subvert his mind. All control was instantly lost, which is pretty much exactly what we guessed would happen; he's hypersensitive to mental threat and will probably remain so for his entire life. However, in the absence of mental threat, he has subdued his Legilimency entirely to the point of latency; it's the only way he has to defend himself, but he does not use it willingly for fear of hurting other people. And I will take Veritaserum on that if you wish. Or you could simply ask him."

Dumbledore gave her a long, hard look, then nodded to DC Winston, who spoke. "Elen, do you like to hurt other people?" _And now you'll realise exactly what a monster you're so eagerly defending._

"No."

 _What in the world... I couldn't **possibly**...?_

DC Winston blinked. _This can't be happening. I'll try it another way._ "Describe the worst deliberate hurt you have ever inflicted on somebody else."

"I kicked Sirius. He yelped."

 _He kicked Sirius. That's the worst thing he can think of. If he is not like Voldemort, if he is not evil, if he is not a danger to Harry... what does that make me? Sweet Merlin, what have I done? Even the attacks... he was telling the truth, he wasn't in control, and that's down to Azkaban and therefore it's **my** fault... I can't be trusted, I can't ever trust myself again, not around Elen, not around other children, not around Harry..._

"Elen–"

Amelia Bones slashed her wand down in a Silencing Charm. "Dumbledore, this is your final warning. If you cannot refrain from talking to Elen, I'll have you removed from the courtroom." She reversed the Charm, allowing Dumbledore to talk again. "I'm not joking."

"I would like to withdraw my defence." Albus Dumbledore bowed his head, suddenly looking very old and very tired. "I have made a terrible mistake. Do whatever you have to with me. But please... I _have_ to ask him..."

DC Winston turned quickly. "Dumbledore, think what you're about, if you give up–"

"You're admitting your guilt? You admit that you sent an eight-year-old child to Azkaban for no reason?"

"I thought there was an excellent reason. I thought I saw another Voldemort in him, and I couldn't take that chance; I gave Tom Riddle a chance when he was a child and we got Voldemort's campaign of terror inflicted on our world. But yes. Yes. I admit it. I was so wrong about Elen and I'm so, so sorry. Please, Amelia..."

Amelia Bones jabbed her wand at Dumbledore's armchair, which transformed into a sturdy wooden chair. The chains glowed gold and snaked around his arms and torso, binding him securely.

"Sirius Black? Where is Sirius Black? Come here right now, please..."

"What would it take for you to forgive me, Elen?" Dumbledore had spoken quickly and managed to complete the sentence before the Silencer hit.

"Enough! Bailiff, remove him." Dumbledore didn't resist as he was pulled to his feet and his arms bound behind his back, nor did he resist as he was steered through the rear door and into a cell. Elen's answer, dulled by the Veritaserum, had both given him hope and shaken him to his core.

"I would have to believe you."

"Severus. Do you have the antidote on you?" _We need to move, fast, and Bailiff Milton's got **our** antidote and he's in the cells with Dumbledore. _

Snape nodded and strode forward as Sirius leapt right over the gates and transformed back in midair, ignoring the chaos in his wake. Elen blinked as the potion was poured into his mouth, eyes clearing. He jerked away in panic but stayed seated, one hand going to a moving cat-sized lump under a fold of his robe, the other reaching out towards Sirius. Amelia Bones lowered her voice and spoke rapidly. "Sirius, take him home and keep him there. Shacklebolt and Tonks will accompany you for protection, because this is going to explode. Go. Now." Minerva freed herself from Elen and leapt to the floor, crawling under the Invisibility Cloak, which faded from view. Sirius pulled Elen against him and Disapparated, followed a moment later by Kingsley and Tonks.


	15. Chapter 14

**Chapter Fourteen**

"Wow." Tonks followed Elen into the dining room as Kingsley Stunned all the portraits that Tonks had awoken when she'd tripped and fallen over Crookshanks as he streaked through the hallway to wind around and around Elen's ankles. Sirius was still at the front door, raising the wards to full strength and maximum alert. Elen had almost fallen over Crookshanks himself and had had to laugh as he scooped him up, then blinked in surprise as he saw that his cat was neatly brushed and had a green bow tied gently around his neck. _Kreacher. Again. I wish he'd either just_ _ **tell**_ _me what he wants or leave me in peace. He hates me, and he hasn't changed his mind, so why has he decided to be_ _ **nice**_ _to me?_

Tonks continued, oblivious. "My mum told me about this place, but I always thought she was joking about the hallway. I think I've gone _deaf_." She dug a pack of cards out of her pocket. "Care for a game of Exploding Snap?"

"I don't know. I've never played. Tonks..."

Tonks shuffled the cards. "Just try it, hey?" She sat down at the table and began to deal. "Come on, have a seat. And don't look at your cards."

Elen sat down in the chair facing her, putting Crookshanks on his lap and stroking him. "Tonks... what's going to happen now?"

Tonks finished dealing. "Well, Dumbledore's going to be convicted in the next few days and the whole world's going to go mad. Dumbledore... he's popular, and he's got a lot of influence. Even though he pled guilty, people aren't going to like it, and it'll scare them, and people stop thinking when they're scared. That's why you're being kept safe here until it dies down a bit. Mobs are most unreasonable things. As are reporters." She flipped a two of hearts face-up onto the table. "Your turn. Flip a card."

Elen put a four of spades on top of Tonks' heart card. "What will happen to Dumbledore?"

Tonks put a four of hearts on the pile and slapped her hand down on it. "SNAP!" Elen jumped and then yelped as Crookshanks dug his claws in. He gently detached Crookshanks as Tonks continued talking, in a more normal tone of voice. "And now these cards are mine and they get added to the bottom of my pile. The last one to run out of cards wins. Elen..." She leaned forward, taking Elen's hand. "You do realise that what he did to you was very wrong? You do realise that you didn't deserve to be hurt like that?"

Elen slowly put the king of spades onto the table with his other hand. "Yes."

"Good. You told the truth, and he pled guilty, and now it's up to Minister Bones to decide what the punishment's going to be. She's in charge of making sure that he's never able to hurt you again. So you don't have to worry about it anymore, all right?"

Elen dropped his gaze and curled up around Crookshanks in the tall chair, hugging him tightly. Tonks leaned forward, trying to catch his attention again. "Elen, if you want to talk, I'm here. Okay? Or if you don't feel like you can tell me, as soon as Sirius finishes with the wards, I'll call him and you can talk to him. But whatever it is, you need to tell somebody."

"They can't..." Elen's voice trembled. "They can't... I don't want..." He began to cry, all the stress and fear of the last few days overwhelming him, and unable to say any more. "Sirius. Sirius..."

Tonks came around and hugged him, cautiously at first, then tight when he didn't jerk away. "Shhh. It's going to be okay. Sirius will be in here the _moment_ he's finished raising the wards, all right?" Kingsley opened the door, saw what was going on and instantly closed it again, going to wait for Sirius on the stairs instead.

"Hey. You're okay." Tonks rubbed his back. "Whatever it is, is anything going to change in the next fifteen minutes? Sirius will be here in fifteen minutes."

Elen shook his head no, attempting to stop crying as Crookshanks rasped his tongue over his face and hands.

"Do you want to keep playing for fifteen minutes, then? It'll be a good distraction, and you'll be able to tell Sirius when he gets here. Come on, Elen. You haven't won a trick yet – heck, it hasn't even exploded yet..."

Elen hiccupped, attention caught. "It actually _explodes_?"

Tonks reached all the way over the table and dropped the ace of clubs onto Elen's king. "Yup."

Elen reached out and dropped the two of clubs into the middle of the table. Tonks smiled and returned to her place. When the pile blew up five minutes later and singed Tonks' eyebrows, which she promptly regrew as a purple monobrow and then persuaded it to act like a caterpillar all over her forehead, which Crookshanks proceeded to try to play with, Elen even laughed. Tonks won all three games easily, even after she started deliberately waiting a second before shouting SNAP, but even so the tactic had worked. When Sirius came in, talking with Kingsley, Elen was calm.

"Can I play?"

Tonks gathered the cards together. "Do you want to talk to him now, Elen? The game can wait if you want to talk now." Elen nodded, curling up in the chair again and looking at the floor. Crookshanks mewed disconsolately and Elen started to scratch his ruff.

"Hey..." Sirius walked round and knelt by the chair. "Elen, what's wrong?"

"Will they send Dumbledore to Azkaban?" Elen asked in a small voice.

Sirius moved without thinking, sweeping Elen up in a tight hug. Crookshanks leapt to the floor, miffed. "Yes, Elen, of course they will. You're _safe_. He won't ever hurt you again."

"That place... They _can't_ , Sirius, it's evil! But... Sirius, I'm _scared_ , if they let him go, he'll do it again – he'll come after me again, or choose somebody else to come after for no reason and _I wasn't supposed to survive_ , he wanted me to die in there, but if he's sent there _he_ will die in there! I _won't_ murder him and I can't _not_ murder him because nobody's going to be safe if he's loose... I can't do this, Padfoot, I can't..."

Sirius rocked back on his heels, completely taken aback. _What the hell am I meant to say to this one?_ Tonks looked just as stunned.

"Elen, listen to me." Kingsley's voice was calm as he rested his hand on Sirius' shoulder, the closest Elen would let him come and still remain settled. "Dumbledore chose to break the law. Dumbledore chose to hurt you. He pled guilty, and people who are guilty of crimes get punished. If Dumbledore dies in prison for his _own_ actions, _it is not your fault._ Whether Dumbledore lives or dies, you will _not_ be a murderer."

"But _I know what it's like in there!_ " Elen's voice rose to a scream. "I can't be responsible for locking even Dumbledore in there with _them!_ " He twisted desperately away from Sirius and stumbled straight into Tonks, who held on tight until Sirius could wrap his arms around Elen again, kept holding on as Elen struggled against both of them, and let go when Elen stopped struggling and started weeping, broken. Crookshanks came over and leaned against his legs, purring as loudly as a thunderstorm.

"I know what it's like in there too, Elen," Sirius whispered, holding Elen close. "It's the most terrible place I can even imagine. Elen, you said it yourself, Dumbledore wanted you to die in there. How on earth is it that you don't feel the same way about him?"

"Because I'm not him," Elen sobbed into Sirius' chest. "That place is _evil_ and the Dementors.. _._ the Dementors..."

"Elen." Tonks' voice was quiet and uncertain. "What _do_ you want to happen to Dumbledore?"

"I want him kept _right away_ from me, I want it to be _impossible_ for him to ever even THINK of ever doing anything like this again to anyone no matter what reason he comes up with to justify it, and I don't want him being tortured or killed." He turned so he could see her, face streaked with tears and eyes dull. "And as long as we're dreaming, I wish Voldemort had never existed so he couldn't be my _father_ and then none of this would have happened."

"Oh, _Elen._ " Tonks' eyes welled up and Sirius hugged Elen hard. _I wish it too. I wish it too. It's brought you nothing but pain._

"Okay, Elen. I'm not promising _anything_ , I want to make that really clear, but we'll try to figure out how to make something like that happen with Dumbledore's sentence," Kingsley said. Elen's head snapped up and he stared at Kingsley.

" _Really?_ "

Sirius closed his eyes against the sudden hope in Elen's voice.

"I can't promise anything, Elen. It may not be possible." _Or feasible._ "There is no way that Dumbledore is _not_ getting a prison sentence for what he's done, the _minimum_ punishment for something like this is fifteen years without parole, but the conditions it's to be served under could maybe be changed... I promise you that we will try. I'll contact Amelia Bones and let her know what you've just told us, and we will try." He looked Elen straight in the eyes. "If anyone has the right to influence the harshness of the punishment, you do. There is precedent, although people usually use it the other way around. And he doesn't deserve what you're trying to do for him." _Although I understand perfectly_ _ **why**_ _you're doing it. Nobody in our entire history who has argued for a harsher punishment has actually had it inflicted on them first._

"I'm not doing it for him," Elen protested. "I'm doing it for _me_. I'd never forgive myself if I sent him _there_..."

Kingsley smiled. _As I thought._ "Well, it's still doing him a massive favour. I can contact Amelia Bones right now if you're absolutely sure you want to do this."

Elen started to nod, then hesitated. "It... it will still be _safe_ , won't it? He won't come back, or escape, or...?"

"Elen, if we can't make it at _least_ as secure as Azkaban, it won't happen. Taking the victim's wishes into account is one thing; compromising everybody's safety is quite another."

"Then tell her. Please."

Kingsley pulled out parchment and quill and wrote quickly for a few minutes, then sealed it and threw it into the fire with a handful of Floo powder. "There. Done."

* * *

Amelia Bones had a headache. She knew what her in-tray would look like when she returned to her office; she'd be lucky if it was still in one piece, what with the way Howlers burst into flames if they weren't opened immediately. At least she'd be able to fob off anyone writing an unctuous, thinly-veiled congratulation with the excuse that it must have accidentally been charred to a crisp. Although speaking of unctuousness, she pitied Minerva for having to deal with Lucius Malfoy's attempts to get back into favour at Hogwarts now that Dumbledore no longer stood in his way. She was still trying to get her head around Albus Dumbledore pleading guilty to the worst case of child abuse she'd ever heard of, and she was having trouble putting her emotions aside to make _sure_ that the sentence she handed down would be both just and fair and, as a bonus, wouldn't get her or Elen lynched by Albus Dumbledore's many supporters.

Behind her, the Floo chimed and flared into life for an instant, disgorging a neatly-folded piece of parchment sealed with the official seal of the Auror Department. _Oh, what now?_ She waved it into her hand with an impatient flick of her wand.

 ** _Minister Bones_**

 ** _Elen wishes to use his right to influence Albus Dumbledore's sentence. Amelia, are you sitting down? He wishes to influence the conditions of Dumbledore's imprisonment for the better._**

 _What?_ Amelia Bones read the sentence again, but the words didn't change.

 ** _He wants Dumbledore to be kept away from him, for Dumbledore to be literally_** ** _unable_** ** _to even consider doing something like this again to anybody else for ANY reason – which would call for a geas of some sort – and he does not want Dumbledore to be tortured or killed. In practical terms, this means that he wishes Dumbledore to be imprisoned somewhere other than Azkaban. Somewhere that does not have Dementors and does not make a habit of torturing the prisoners. After experiencing Azkaban himself, the idea of inflicting it on anybody else is anathema to him. He says that he'd find it impossible to forgive himself, even if it's inflicted on the person who sent him there._**

 ** _He knows that we can't promise anything, but I did promise him that we would try._**

 ** _I hope you_** ** _were_** ** _sitting down._**

 ** _Kingsley Shacklebolt_**

Amelia Bones sat back. _I was not expecting that. That is a very odd but entirely reasonable request, and I will grant it to the best of my ability... let's see. Imprisonment_ _ **anywhere**_ _would fulfil the first requirement. And we can come up with wording for a geas; if Dumbledore takes the geas while under Veritaserum it will bind him to all permutations of the geas no matter_ _ **how**_ _he tries to get out of it. But the third requirement... the only other wizarding prison set up to keep somebody as powerful as Albus Dumbledore contained is Nurmengard Fortress and we can't send him there. It's only set up to imprison_ _ **one**_ _powerful wizard. Putting_ _ **two**_ _powerful wizards in there could let it be cracked. I'm not risking Grindelwald getting loose, and the Germans would justifiably murder anybody who even suggested it. But if we put a whole team on it, we could replicate the wards on the prison somewhere else. And maybe we can also use something like it for_ _ **every**_ _prisoner who is willing to swear a binding geas. It's going to be a mess, but I think it's time to rewrite our laws and get rid of Azkaban. We have capitulated to the Dementors for far too long._

* * *

"Albus Dumbledore." Minister Bones cleared her throat. "You have been found guilty of the crimes of kidnapping, reckless endangerment, false imprisonment, child abuse, and torture by proxy." She looked down at him, eyes pitiless and hard. "These crimes are heinous and deserving of a long sentence in Azkaban." She paused. "However, your victim has requested to influence your sentence, and I have granted his request."

Dumbledore bowed his head, waiting for Amelia Bones to tell him his fate. When the Dementors had brought him in and pushed him down into the chained chair, he'd searched the courtroom for Elen and hadn't seen him, although he was hardly surprised at that now. _Elen would be within his rights – barely – to have requested the Kiss, and if he came to hear that sentence being handed down he'd be torn to pieces by a mob. He's being prudent and waiting for it to blow over before he reveals himself. If he has requested that I be Kissed... I cannot find it in myself to blame him. I've heard the echoes myself now, but even with all my strength behind my probe they were so faint I could hardly hear them. Poor Elen; as attuned as you are there was no escaping from it except for your instinctual magic to become even_ _ **more**_ _attuned and therefore a more effective defence. I am so glad that you escaped the horror I inflicted on you. Because now we all know that, whatever we believed before, the Dementor's Kiss is not actually the end of the story, and I don't fear it as much as I would have done._

 _I'm ready. Someday, all those souls will be set free. And then it's on to the next great adventure._

"You are to swear a binding oath that you will never do anything like this again. You will be swearing it under Veritaserum. If you cannot or will not swear, then I will take the terms of your punishment back under my jurisdiction and sentence you accordingly."

Dumbledore blinked, nonplussed. _Elen seems to be confounding my expectations a lot recently. If he doesn't want me destroyed..._

"He's also been far more lenient on you than I would have been. He has requested that you are _not_ to be sent to Azkaban to be tortured as you tortured him."

The entire courtroom broke out into disbelieving babble. Dumbledore picked up several words and winced on Elen's behalf: _Slytherin, manipulative, playing us, You-Know-Who..._ He tried to speak to the audience, but the Directed Silencers on the chair paralysed his voice.

 _You're all wrong. I know what he wants now. He wants to be able to forget me. He wants to be able to live with himself. If this is within my power, Elen, I will do it. I stole your childhood, and I owe you as much peace as I can possibly give you now._

"Silence, all of you!" Amelia Bones hit the gavel and waited until the buzzing died down. "The length of the sentence is something that has been left entirely up to me. The minimum sentence for this sort of malfeasance is fifteen years, but this particular one is the worst case I have ever seen _or_ heard of. _Thirty_ years, Dumbledore. Five years for every one year you tortured your victim, to either be served in Azkaban without swearing the geas, or to be served in a warded cell without Dementors _with_ the geas. Choose."

Dumbledore raised his head. "May I know _exactly_ what the geas entails before I swear?" _Better safe than sorry, if it's something with a sting in the tail._

"Of course. These are the words: 'I swear on my magic that I will never again consider harming a child. I swear on my magic that neither by deliberate action nor deliberate inaction will I cause a child to be harmed. I swear on my magic that I will do whatever I can to rectify any previous harm that I have caused. And I swear on my magic that my body and my soul and my magic will remain within the walls of my cell until either my sentence is completed or I am dead.' Will you swear this oath under Veritaserum, Albus Dumbledore?"

 _I won't be able to get out of this. This oath... it's going to be most uncomfortable, but it will make me_ _ **safe**_ _._ "Yes, of course I will." He willingly opened his mouth for the Veritaserum and started to speak, not changing a single word. _If you ever allow me contact with you, Elen, I need to thank you for this._

Amelia Bones leaned forward. "One question, Dumbledore. Does Elen still have family living?" _You're still under Veritaserum. You will tell me the truth._

Dumbledore shook his head. "No. His mother and stepfather died long before I took him, and his grandfather has died since."

Amelia Bones let out her breath in a sad sigh. _No family left. None._ "Aurors. Your first prisoner for Ravenhold Citadel. Take him away." After Dumbledore was removed, she cracked her knuckles. "Next." _Remove the Dementors' captives, weaken them, and set the entire Department of Mysteries to find a way to destroy them entirely. They can be driven off with the Patronus so that may make the base. They are at least partly human – thank you for that, Elen, although I've had nightmares about it almost every night since I found out – and therefore there should be a way to destroy them._

 _But they can_ _ **have**_ _any prisoner who will not swear at least the final sentence of that oath – and the rest of it will be adjusted to suit their crime, of course. There is weakening the Dementors, and then there is being stupid._

* * *

Rajah finished his introductory speech about his team's next assignment. "So, the challenge is to destroy the Dementors and set those souls free, and so far the components we have are the Patronus Charm, and second-hand knowledge of what's going on inside them." He wrote both items in the middle of the wall, then sat down with a sigh of relief, hooking his cane over the arm of his chair.

Ten minutes later, Rajah's team were still looking at each other. The fact remained that their new assignment didn't give them much to go on at all. Around the words "Patronus Charm" and "second-hand knowledge of Dementors", the wall was looking exceedingly bare.

"They're not asking for much, are they?" Carrington Rosier said ironically, leaning back. "Even _my_ family's library says that they're the Darkest of all Dark Creatures and therefore impossible to destroy."

His Muggleborn friend Ruth Lyons, also of Hufflepuff, raised her head slightly from the table and groused, "Well, your family's library _would_ say that. They were –"

"– crazy enough to believe that darkness always overwhelms light, I know."

"Light," Rajah said, head snapping up. "Sunlight. Dementors don't do well in bright sunlight." Carrington scrawled the word _sunlight_ on the wall.

"It's going to have to be really strong," Ruth said, eyes brightening as she triangulated the spell. _An idea, an idea, we have an **idea**... _"Solis _maxima_ , even. We're going to have to wear sunglasses." She grinned at Carrington. "You're going to look like one of the Men in Black." Carrington threw his quill at her and started humming the theme tune. Rajah closed his eyes. _Of all the hobbies to take up from your Muggle Studies class thirty years ago, you **would** have to pick bad science fiction films._

"You do that spell in that form and it almost certainly won't work, but you've got a two-percent chance of going up in a blazing inferno, and a zero-point-zero-seven-percent chance of setting all of Britain on fire," Ben said. He seldom spoke, but when he did everybody listened; Ravenclaw brains weren't to be sneezed at. "We don't want the Sun _itself_ here. We just need the _light_. Solis _lux_ maxima. _Solux maxima_ – that incantation should work." He wrote it below Carrington's scrawl. "And we need more information. We don't have enough to go on here. What book did it come from? If we can locate the book that _that_ book sourced it from..."

Rajah took a deep breath and reminded himself that he'd recruited Ben himself. _Ravenclaws. Absolutely brilliant at their best, heads in the clouds and no regard for current events at their worst, and I knew he was both within three minutes of meeting him._ "Not a book. A side mention in a Veritaserum testimony about something else. But it's a good idea." He levitated the quill to write _figure out a way to get full account of this from Elen_ on the wall _._ "He won't want to talk. I know _I_ wouldn't if it had happened to me. And he may not even be _able_ to talk about it – there might not be words to describe it."

"Why wouldn't he want to help us?" Ben asked. "He wants them gone, doesn't he?"

Ruth deliberately moved her hand away from the water pitcher. _If I touch it, I will throw it._ "Yes, he does, but he's _traumatised_ , Ben. He won't want to talk because it will mean he has to _remember_. I _heard_ his testimony; did any of you?"

"I heard it," Carrington said with a nod. "And I agree – he won't want to talk. But quite apart from that, _it didn't make any sense_. He doesn't use the same reference points as we do. Just getting him to describe it, even assuming that we can get him to talk and I agree it won't be easy... it won't necessarily give us what we need anyway. I can't begin to imagine what he meant when he said they were _shredded together like torn cloth in a whirlwind of knives_ – that doesn't sound _anything_ like a Dementor to me. I mean, I know he was telling the truth, but it sounds mad even though I know it's _not._ "

"Elen used Legilimency, didn't he?" Ruth asked. "Snape's done work for us before. We could ask him to use Legilimency for us." _If we can spare Elen, leave him out of this..._

" _I'll_ ask," Rajah said. "He'll take a proposition as risky as that better coming from another Slytherin." He wrote a note on official stationery and folded it neatly, Flooing it away. "Any other first –"

The Floo chimed and Carrington turned in surprise. "Already? Well, go on, Rajah, read it out..."

" ' _Mr Mukhopadhyay – I was unaware that most of your brain resided in your left knee and was lost when Grindelwald crippled you. I categorically **refuse** to have anything to do with this insanity. Professor Severus Snape._' He's in fine form today, I see. Well, so much for that." He turned to look at the wall. "Sunlight and the Patronus, which won't do it but at least it's something to start with. And a witness testimony that none of us understand and which doesn't agree with what we _think_ we know already, meaning that we need a _memory_..."

"That's... not going to be easily acquired," Ruth said flatly. "He'll shred anyone who tries to pieces, and he won't even _mean_ to. Let's get as far as we possibly can without it. Who knows? Maybe that Legilimency will die down in time."

"The Healers don't think it ever will, and they'd know best. They said so at Dumbledore's trial," Carrington said. Ruth glared at him. _I'm perfectly well aware of that, Carrington – I was being optimistic to keep myself from despairing about our chances!_

"Knock it off," Rajah said. "If we go down a wrong route then we go down a wrong route; if binding sunlight into the Patronus Charm isn't going to work we can abandon the idea before we commit to casting it on the Dementors. We can at least play with the potential spellwork while we try to figure out how to either persuade or teach Elen to let us past that savage defence mechanism to access the memory we need. I doubt he'll agree to more than one, so I'll make it clear to him that it has to be late-stage just in case it took some time for the Dementors to activate that Legilimency. I can exert leverage to gain physical access to him if I must, but I'd prefer to have a plan for mental access in place first. And remember..."

"Nobody ever said our dream job would be easy," the rest of the team said in a ragged chorus.


	16. Chapter 15

**Chapter Fifteen**

Kreacher sidled into the room. The trial had been a pain in the neck, since the brat had seldom been alone and when he was, he was either asleep or not in the mood to talk. On top of that, the blood-traitor's houseguests had now taken it upon themselves to help clean the house, meaning that he'd had to move the Horcrux six times, and the brat promptly avoided any room it was moved to, meaning that to keep it _secret_ he'd had to choose rooms that the brat had no reason to go to _and_ that weren't next on the cleaning schedule _and_ that hadn't already been done, because the locket would look completely out of place. He'd tried hiding it in his den, but the brat had started refusing to come into the kitchen and the blood-traitor had started asking why. He was running out of places to put it. It was driving him mad. On top of that, he couldn't even _address_ the brat in the polite manner, since the brat completely disowned his _proper_ surname and, although Kreacher had sensed the change some time ago, he was ignoring it in the hope it would go away. _The blood-traitor must not continue the line. The blood-traitor must not disgrace the House of Black any further._

"Kreacher must speak with Elen. Now." _And Kreacher must slam his head in the door later for addressing the brat by only his first name with no honorific attached._

"Yes...?" Elen was cautious. _If he wants to speak now, when I am alone, then this cannot be good. He cannot harm me because he obeys Sirius' orders – grudgingly – so what does he want?_

"Kreacher knows that Elen speaks to snakes." He smiled a nasty smile and wrung his hands uncertainly. "Kreacher was wondering..." He trailed off. _Keep it secret and destroy it, Master Regulus said._

Elen looked back at him, just as uncertain. _He's afraid._ "I won't hurt you..."

"Will Elen teach Kreacher to talk to snakes?"

"Why?" Elen asked, surprised. _He's been nice to me for ages even though he hates me... because he wants to talk to snakes?_

Kreacher twisted his ears hard until the tears came in his eyes. "Kreacher cannot say why." _Kreacher cannot go against Master Regulus' wishes again. Kreacher is a bad house-elf for not destroying the Horcrux already._

Elen hesitated. _It's a strange request, but I don't think he intends any harm. But..._ "I'm not sure that it _can_ be taught, Kreacher. I wasn't taught it; I've always known how to speak it. _Hsseshhhesskehsh._ That's 'hello' – can you say that?"

Kreacher blinked and opened his mouth. "Hsssissseskshhh."

Elen shook his head. "No. _Hsseshhhesskehsh._ "

Kreacher tried again. This time was worse. Elen emphasized the intonation as much as he could, and Kreacher's fifteenth attempt was close enough to recognise if you knew the original word.

"Will Elen teach Kreacher how to say the word 'Open' in the snake-speech?"

Again, Elen hesitated, this time warily. "Kreacher... what's this about?" _Because whatever it's about it's not just about talking to snakes._

"Kreacher cannot say." Kreacher stared at Elen with wide eyes. "Tell Kreacher. Please. Kreacher will leave Elen in peace if Elen will please just tell Kreacher..."

 _He said please. To_ _ **me**_ _. And he's bribing me. Whatever this is, it's really serious. Stall him and tell Siri... no. Kingsley. He's pureblood and Kreacher appreciates that at least enough to be naturally polite to him._ "Say 'hello' again. See whether you remember it."

"Hssihee..." Kreacher stumbled over the word and let out a silent scream of frustration.

"I don't think it can be taught, Kreacher," Elen said quietly. Kreacher snarled right in his face and Disapparated with a CRACK.

Elen slipped a bookmark in the seventh chapter of _The Magician's Nephew_ , which Tonks had brought for him the previous day – along with all the other books in the series – after _The Voyage of the Dawn Treader_ had been a hit, and left the room, heading directly for the third-floor ensuite (which had taken to trying to strangle people with its shower curtains and then drown the remains in the bathtub).

"Kingsley?"

Kingsley fought his way out. "Oh, get _off_ me..." He set the curtains on fire with a jab of his wand, then doused them again after they screamed and released his left arm, making sure to not get too close to Elen. _This must be important. Elen came to_ _ **me**_ _even though I'm the one he's most wary of._ "Sorry about that. Yes?" As he listened to Elen's story of what Kreacher had asked him to do, he also grew concerned. _Kreacher's been trying to get into Elen's good books for a while, the way I've heard it, but_ _ **also**_ _does not actually like him. And now we've found out what he was angling_ _ **for**_ _... but why would he play a long game just for the sake of learning how to say a single Parseltongue word?_

"Come with me, Elen. Sirius is his master, and therefore Kreacher will have to tell Sirius the truth if he asks."

* * *

"KREACHER!" Sirius was livid. _Whatever reason you had to try to manipulate Elen for weeks on end to get him to teach you how to say 'open' in Parseltongue, it's going to bite you in the backside now, you despicable little..._

Kreacher appeared, bowing and sneering, and froze for a moment at the sight of Elen and Kingsley. _He_ _ **told**_ _. Kreacher will freeze his bed tonight as he sleeps to make him dream of Azkaban._

"Tell me the _truth_ , Kreacher, and tell me _now_. _Why_ did you try to get Elen to teach you Parseltongue?"

Kreacher fought it, but couldn't resist. "To obey Master Regulus, who was a better Master than the blood-traitor Master who Kreacher suffers under now..."

Sirius blinked. "My brother's been dead for fifteen years. What did he command you to do that needs Elen to teach you Parseltongue to do it?" _If you're going to run off and try to bring Voldemort back from the dead, I will personally_ _ **annihilate**_ _you the way I wanted to annihilate Peter... and I won't let Elen stop me this time._

Again, Kreacher fought. "Master Regulus said not to say. Master Regulus said to keep it secret from everybody."

"Master Regulus is _dead_ , Kreacher! The Mastery's passed, otherwise you wouldn't be obeying me! Tell us! NOW!"

"Destroy the Horcrux!" Kreacher screamed, and broke into sobs. "Master Regulus ordered Kreacher to destroy the Dark Lord's Horcrux, but Kreacher couldn't do it, Kreacher tried and tried, Kreacher is a bad house-elf..."

Sirius sat down on the floor, dumbstruck. _My Death Eater brother ordered Kreacher to destroy the one thing chaining Voldemort to this world?_ Kingsley's legs wobbled and he leant against the door, holding himself up by main force on the handle. Elen looked from one to the other.

"What is that? A Hor – Horcrux? What is it?"

Sirius shook his head. "Dark Magic. As Dark as you can _get..._ you murder somebody to break your own soul in two and put half of it into something else, and as long as that thing survives you can't die." Elen blanched and ran for the sink, vomiting into it. _Voldemort deliberately shattered his own_ _ **soul**_ _to stop himself dying?_ _He wanted to not die so much that he sacrificed the one thing he could_ _ **never**_ _get back... he wanted to not die so much that he basically made himself into a_ _ **Dementor**_ _... who would do that, who would ever want to_ _ **do**_ _that?_ He vomited again, and again, then curled up into the tiniest and most miserable ball he could. Sirius cast a Minty-Fresh charm on him to get rid of the taste, turned on the tap with a wave of his wand, and pulled himself along the floor to sit beside Elen, resting his arm across his shoulders. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Kreacher sidling towards the door.

"Kreacher, get back here this instant! _Where is it?_ Where is Voldemort's Horcrux?"

"In the study," Kreacher snarled. Sirius opened his mouth.

"Wait!" Kingsley shouted before Sirius could order Kreacher to fetch it. "I'm getting backup. Goodness knows what protections Voldemort put on the thing. Do _not_ do anything until I get back." He Disapparated.

"I don't like the study," Elen whispered, uncurling slightly to rest against Sirius. "It feels wrong..."

Sirius turned his head slowly to stare at Elen. _And you said that about the drawing-room right at the start of our stay, and the kitchen not two weeks ago..._ "Kreacher, have you moved the Horcrux around inside the house?"

"Yes," Kreacher spat. "Kreacher had to move it from the drawing-room to the library when Master Sirius and his guests cleaned the drawing-room, and then Kreacher had to move it from the library to the second cellar when Master Sirius and his guests cleaned the library, and then Kreacher hid it in his den when the halfblooded disgrace started cleaning the second cellar, but then the brat wouldn't go into the kitchen and Master Sirius started asking questions, and then –"

"Enough," Sirius interjected. _It was in the drawing-room and the kitchen. That's all I wanted to know._ "And whatever it is, it needs to be opened before it can be destroyed?"

"Yes," Kreacher hissed. _Kreacher hates Master Sirius. Master Sirius has forced Kreacher to betray Master Regulus, and now Master Regulus' last command to Kreacher will never be fulfilled. Kreacher is a bad house-elf._

Sirius stood up, pulling Elen with him. _All right – let's get rid of this thing._ "Elen – do you think, if I conjured up a completely harmless snake, that you could command it to say 'open' on my cue so we can destroy the Horcrux? I want you to stay _well clear._ As in, I'll put a glamour on you and I _order_ you to have a picnic in that meadow near Hogsmeade with Crookshanks and a Metamorphed Tonks and not to return until I _fetch_ you." _I'm not exposing you to it. You've only just recovered from the_ _ **last**_ _brutal assault on your mind and soul, and Voldemort's powerful. Certainly powerful enough to easily take you at full strength, and even if his Horcrux is weaker, which isn't a given... if it attacks you you'll shred everyone but me trying to defend yourself._

A long hesitation. "Will the snake be like Remus' birds?"

 _Will the snake... oh._ "Of course. Yes, it'll be just like Remus' birds. It won't be alive."

Elen nodded. "Yes. Yes. Voldemort's already dead. He died the moment he made that _thing_. And if this makes him _stay_ dead, then let's do it. But Sirius..." He trailed off, then hugged Sirius as tightly as he could. "Don't let it hurt you, okay?"

Sirius hugged him back. "Don't worry about me. I'm far too much trouble for our soon to be _completely_ departed Dark Lord Guess Who to manage."

Kreacher's head lifted and his eyes started to fill with tears. _Perhaps... perhaps Kreacher was wrong about Master Sirius. If Master Sirius destroys the Horcrux, then Kreacher will be proud to be Master Sirius' house-elf. And Master Elen will help to get it open for Master Sirius and Master Sirius' friends to destroy it as Master Regulus commanded._ "Kreacher will prepare the picnic. Kreacher will make refreshments for everybody who helps to grant Master Regulus' command. Kreacher will... Kreacher will..." His voice dropped to a whisper as he racked his brain for something else to offer and suddenly came up with the bribe to end all bribes. "Kreacher will even tell Master Sirius how to remove his mother's portrait from the front hall!"

* * *

"Good grief." Tonks stared at the sixteen baskets, overflowing with food. "He's only had _two hours_ to prepare all this. How in the world do house-elves do it?"

Elen rubbed his glamoured dark-skinned arm across his face and hoisted Crookshanks against his chest with the other arm. "There's even more in the kitchen; Kreacher said he'd do refreshments for the people destroying that _thing_ and he's done lunch for _a hundred_ in there even though there's only going to be five people. Sirius had to order him to stop. How are we going to _carry_ it? Or eat even _one basket_ of it?"

Tonks shook her head and shrunk the first basket, slipping it into her overcoat pocket. She'd changed out of her Auror uniform and was now dressed in a deep blue robe with a tattered hem, a slightly-too-large faded yellow overcoat, dirty sneakers, and a droopy hat. "I'll drop off whatever we don't eat for a midnight feast at Hufflepuff House. They'll love it."

"I put my books in that basket, and Crookshanks' favourite ball," Elen said as Tonks shrunk a second one. "I don't think I'll be able to read them, I'll be too worried, but..."

"But just in case," Tonks smiled and systematically shrunk the rest of the baskets. "I understand. Are you ready to go once you've done what you need to?"

Elen shook his head. "Sirius hasn't made the snake yet."

"Sirius is going to make the snake now," Kingsley said, appearing in the doorway. "Most of us are in the study already, including Kreacher who _insists_ on witnessing its destruction, but you are not to come anywhere _near_ it." _Sirius was adamant that he would not allow it, and every single person agreed with him._ "Come on, both of you. Tonks, as soon as Elen's got the snake to say 'open' when Sirius commands it to, remember – go Metamorph and take Elen and his cat to that meadow and have a picnic and enjoy yourselves as much as possible while you protect him there, and try not to freak out. This is going to take _at least_ two hours even if the locket's destroyed in the first ten seconds because we'll need to make sure that none of it escaped. If nobody comes for you after four hours, call Headmistress McGonagall... it's all right, Elen. That shouldn't happen; it's just in case." He smiled at Elen's worried look. "I promise. _None_ of us are going to take unnecessary risks. And if Sirius tries I shall _personally_ sit on his head."

"Call Headmistress McGonagall and she can protect Elen while I alert the Auror Department," Tonks said as they reached the dining room. "Got it."

Sirius smiled at Elen and raised his wand. "Ready? _Serpensortia._ " A large snake erupted from the end of his wand and drew itself up, hissing angrily. Elen stepped forward.

" _Hsssieshhkkkststeeesh._ " The snake dropped docilely to the ground. " _Sseskhiikssskhtssesiissss._ Sirius, come here?" He took Sirius' wrist and pulled his hand towards the snake. "She needs to get your scent – it's okay, Sirius, she won't bite you, she knows you're my friend..." Sirius held his very vulnerable hand rigidly in front of him as the snake flicked its tongue over the air around it, trying not to flinch. _I hate snakes. I've hated snakes ever since I was four and Cousin Bella put a king cobra in my bed as I slept and I was in hospital for two weeks recovering from its poison... but for this, I will deal with it._

Elen nodded at him and Sirius snatched his hand back, letting out a sigh of relief. " _Iiskkkeessttheeisiehhhsissshh._ " The snake nodded and turned its attention to Sirius. "She'll obey you now, and _only_ you. She'll follow you in there, and whenever you say _sthkeesstkheessss_ or anything remotely close to it, she will say 'open' in Parseltongue. It's the word for shed scales." He grimaced. "I chose the simplest word I could think of, but snakes don't hear human so you're going to have to try to speak her language well enough for her to hear you. If you had the slightest chance of saying the word for 'open' _correctly_ we wouldn't need the snake, but..."

Sirius laughed nervously. "Of all the things I thought I'd be doing in the fight against Voldemort, speaking to a snake wasn't on the list. Ssseethess. Sseethheesss."

" _Sthkeesstkheessss_ ," Elen corrected. "You're missing out the middle bit."

Sirius grabbed a quill and a bit of parchment. "Say it again, slowly?" Elen obliged, and Sirius wrote. "Sss...tic...hee...sss...tic...heess...issss." He looked at it and spoke again, running his finger under each sound as he spoke it. " _Sssssticcheessssticheessssiiss._ "

The snake's eyes widened. She obeyed Sirius and hissed the word for _Open_ , but then started helplessly sniggering. Elen closed his eyes. "Padfoot, that's absolutely _disgusting_. But she heard you, so..."

 _I wonder what I said?_ "So we'll call it a success. Go on, Elen – go with Tonks, and I'll see you soon."

Tonks screwed up her face and suddenly became about forty years older and five inches taller, with flyaway grey hair and black eyes. Suddenly, she looked like the clothes she was wearing suited her. Like Elen, her skin was dark – she'd deliberately chosen a disguise that made them look like they were distantly related – and she grasped him firmly across the shoulders. "Keep tight hold of Crookshanks... yes, that's it..." They vanished.

Sirius drew his wand and set his jaw, striding towards the study after Kingsley and trying to ignore the snake gliding at his heels. The locket was in the centre of the room, encircled by three wizards who were all looking at it warily. Sirius and Kingsley took their places, and Sirius shuddered as the snake wound its way around his left ankle, resting its head on his foot. _Now I_ _ **feel**_ _like Voldemort._ Auror Dawlish, on Sirius' left side, edged away from him, glancing nervously at the snake. _I'm completely with you on that one, John.._. An elderly wizard with a crippled leg whom Sirius didn't know, leaning on a cane directly across from him, nodded at Bill Weasley. Bill glanced at the snake with an amused quirk of his mouth and started setting the wards.

"Rajah, Department of Mysteries," the wizard said, returning Sirius' glance with a smile. "Actually Rajyeshwar Mukhopadhyay, but nobody uses it because nobody can _say_ it, including all my in-laws and some of my blood family and even _myself_ until I was seven, so I've been Rajah to everyone ever since before Hogwarts. And in my line of work, when something experimental threatens to explode and kill us all, 'Rajah' is so much easier to scream than 'Rajyeshwar' anyway. Finished, Bill?" Bill nodded. "Now: as soon as this thing's open we're blasting it with Fiendfyre. _All_ of us. Ready?" He looked around at the set faces and the four wands, all pointing directly at the locket, and drew his own wand to join them. "Mr Black... get that snake to open it in three, two, one..."

Sirius took a deep breath and looked at the parchment. "Sssthiceessiisticheesss." The snake didn't move. "Oh, _drat_ it all... sorry." He took another deep breath. _Bloody Parseltongue._ " _Sssssticcheessssticheessssiiss._ " The snake raised her head and hissed, and the locket flew open. Bill's eyes widened in horror. _It's a bloody hidden_ _ **trap**_ _. Only a_ _ **human**_ _speaking the correct Parseltongue word would have avoided it..._

" _INFLAMMARE DIA-_ "

The Horcrux's magic slammed into them as the locket levitated into the air, and the spells faltered.

 _I SEE YOU. I KNOW YOUR GREATEST FEARS AND YOUR DEEPEST DESIRES._ The magic twisted itself into the shape of a young man with hungry eyes. _YOU ARE MINE._ Kingsley was on his knees holding his head, Auror Dawlish unconscious, Rajah thrown against the wall with at least seven broken bones and his wand lost, Bill also disarmed and bleeding from his ears and mouth. _YOU ALL BELONG TO ME. YOUR SOULS WILL ALL_ _ **FEED**_ _ME..._

 _Over my dead body,_ Sirius thought from his prone position, dazed, fighting to bring his wand up. " _Inflam–_ " Pain hit and Sirius screamed, blacking out.


	17. Chapter 16

**Chapter Sixteen**

Tonks laughed at Crookshanks as he leapt and pounced after his fluffy ball, using her wand to make it hover and reverse direction as he pursued it. She took a break to conjure up six canaries for Elen, and joined him in feeding them. She attempted to conjure up Remus' ostrich, and the failures even made Elen laugh a little. But nothing was really working to distract him.

Tonks sat down and opened the picnic basket. "Elen..."

"Starling," Elen corrected, voice sharp with anxiety. "There's no point to the disguises if you're going to say my name."

Tonks sighed. "Sorry, Starling. You're right. Look... you heard what Kingsley said, right? It'll take _two hours_ to make sure it's safe to go back even if it got taken care of _straight after we left_. It's been, what, ten minutes? Stop worrying." She took his hand, pulling him down, and Crookshanks immediately climbed into his lap, growling happily over the fluffy ball clamped tightly in his mouth. "I will _tell_ you the moment that the two hours is up, and then we can _both_ worry ourselves sick. Okay? But _until_ then, we're worrying over nothing." She handed him a slice of chocolate cake. "Eat. House-elf cooking's _fantastic_ , and you've never had it before..."

Elen ate two bites and then put it down, beginning to stroke his happy cat. Tonks opened _The Magician's Nephew_ to the seventh chapter and began to read it aloud.

* * *

"Master Sirius? Master Sirius!" Kreacher shook him gently. "Master Sirius must wake up. Master Sirius must go to Master Elen..."

Sirius stirred. "Wha-?" He tried to sit up and doubled over in pain, sinking down again. "Owww... my wand, where's my wand..."

"Kreacher put Master Sirius' wand in Master Sirius' pocket."

Sirius scrabbled for it, getting his fingers around the handle, pointing it wildly. " _Inflammare dia-_ "

"Master Sirius!" Kreacher grabbed the wand and Disapparated to the other side of the room with a CRACK, putting the wand immediately down on the carpet. "Master Sirius must not hurt himself more. Master Sirius must not hurt Master Sirius' friends."

"The Horcrux!" Sirius tried to force his body to move, but only succeeded in rolling weakly against Kingsley. "My _wand_ , give..." He started coughing, vomiting blood.

Kreacher smiled, his eyes shining happily. "Master Regulus commanded Kreacher to destroy the Horcrux. The Horcrux did not notice Kreacher. Kreacher obeyed Master Regulus." He held up a twisted, blackened piece of chain with a melted blob dangling from it, and showed all his many sharp teeth as his smile broadened and became nasty. "Kreacher has waited _fifteen years_ to be able to obey Master Regulus. Kreacher's _magic_ has waited fifteen years for it. Master Sirius must not hurt himself more. Master Sirius needs to go to Master Elen." He brought Sirius' wand back and put it in his hand.

Sirius stared at Kreacher. " _You_ destroyed..." He sagged back. _I can't cope with this right now. Lord Voldemort, brought low by the fury of a thwarted house-elf._ His eyes closed and he drifted back into unconsciousness.

Kreacher sighed. _Master Sirius cannot tell Master Elen to not be afraid. Master Elen will be terrified by now._ He eased a cushion under Rajah's head and cleared Bill Weasley's throat of blood yet again before he could choke on it. **_Kreacher_** _must tell Master Elen what has happened so that he is not afraid, but first Kreacher must take Mr Bill Weasley to St Mungo's Hospital. Master Sirius and all Master Sirius'_ _ **other**_ _friends will survive._ He grasped Bill's wrist and Apparated as gently as he could.

* * *

Tonks looked at Elen as she raised her wand to summon Minerva. It had been four hours and two minutes, and there was no sign of Sirius. Elen was so stressed that he'd been breathing to the pattern for twenty minutes straight, and nothing she could do could get through to him. Crookshanks was purring in his arms, licking his face gently, and he was distractedly stroking the cat, but his concern for Sirius was overwhelming his ability to cope.

CRACK.

"Master Elen!" Kreacher scrambled over to them, pillowcase covered in bloodstains but his face calm and his eyes ecstatic. "Master Elen is not to worry, Master Sirius and his friends will all recover, but Master Elen cannot come home yet because nobody has checked the house yet..."

Elen blinked. "Kreacher? Kreacher, you're covered in blood, _is Sirius all right?_ "

Kreacher looked down at his pillowcase and punched himself hard in the eye. _Kreacher frightened Master Elen. Kreacher should have changed his pillowcase before coming to tell him not to panic._ "Master Sirius and his friends will recover. Kreacher brought two Healers to them when Kreacher took Mr Bill Weasley to St Mungo's. Master Sirius did wake up a little before Kreacher brought the Healers, but Master Sirius was too weak to come to Master Elen."

"Is it destroyed?" Tonks asked, kneeling quickly beside Kreacher. "Kreacher! Is it?"

Kreacher smiled, feral. "Kreacher melted it. And then Kreacher blasted it. And then Kreacher shredded it. And then Kreacher obliterated it. And then Kreacher jumped up and down on the remains of it. Kreacher _obeyed Master Regulus._ " He began to weep happy tears.

Tonks started to laugh in hysterical relief. _Voldemort would have an apoplectic fit if he ever found out that his Horcrux was destroyed by a house-elf with a grudge. For an oh-so-powerful Dark Lord, that's an utter_ _ **disgrace**_ _._ "I'll get someone onto making sure nothing escaped. Kreacher, could you please go back and let them in?" Kreacher Disapparated with another CRACK.

Elen sighed and relaxed, then looked up at Tonks curiously. "Tonks... why did Kreacher just call me his Master?"

Tonks blinked. "Good question." She thought, forehead creasing. "He's bonded to the Black family, so unless Sirius gifts him to somebody outside the family he'll _only_ call members of the family Master." Suddenly, she laughed. "I guess it means that Sirius has adopted you, and you him. Even if Sirius doesn't realise it yet. House-elves are intuitive that way." She put her hands on Elen's shoulders. "Elen Black. Sounds good. We need more _decent_ people in our family."

* * *

On seeing the twisted and melted remains of the locket, the Aurors had all given long, low whistles and looked at Kreacher with profound respect. There was no sign of any residual Dark Magic anywhere in the house, aside from some nasty enchantments on disused rooms. Kreacher had explained that the cleaning hadn't been finished yet, and stamped on his own foot, apologising. Two Aurors had forced their way into Bill Weasley's room, with the help of Arthur Weasley to control the panic of Molly Weasley, who was in full-blown mother hen mode over her desperately-injured son whom _six_ Healers were keeping alive, and checked him too. No sign of it. The soul fragment was gone. All four injured wizards at Grimmauld Place were now conscious and lucid, although Kingsley was nauseous and seeing double and Rajah's spine had been shattered in four different places. The moment the Aurors gave the all-clear, Sirius stood up.

"I'm fetching Elen. It's been almost six hours, and we only prepared him to be away for _four_ – and even that would have been a huge struggle for him. Everyone who doesn't know him already, _stay away_ from the fourth floor." He smiled wryly. "And there's food in the kitchen if you want any. _Please_ help yourselves; we'll never eat our way through it _._ " The Aurors and Healers nodded, and Sirius Disapparated.

* * *

"SIRIUS!" Elen ran straight to him, but his hug was gentle, cautious of any possible injuries. "Sirius, Sirius, _Sirius_..."

"Sorry I took so long," Sirius said softly. "Shall we go home now?"

Elen drew back and studied him for a few moments, eyes shining but hesitant. He glanced at Tonks, unsure how to raise the question. Tonks came forward.

"Sirius... Kreacher just called Elen _Master_ Elen."

Sirius blinked, then burst out laughing. "Well, Voldemort _certainly_ doesn't deserve a child like you. If you want me as your dad, and Harry's okay with it, I'd be delighted."


	18. Chapter 17

**Chapter Seventeen**

 ** _Sirius_**

 ** _I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. But I have to speak with Harry –_**

Sirius threw the parchment in the fire. _I am not going to let you tear this family apart._

 ** _Dumbledore_**

 ** _Sod off._** ** _Never_** ** _contact us again._**

 ** _Sirius Black_**

 _Now, what else do I need to do for this party?_

* * *

The inhabitants and occasional visitors to Grimmauld Place were celebrating Christmas. It was chaos. Hagrid had brought two enormous trees and a bulging cloth bag of baking and had found himself being trailed down the street by several fascinated Muggle children dragging their Muggle parents, so he'd detoured around the block and got tangled in a very confusing conversation about why his beard was black. The adults had apologised but their explanations had made no sense to Hagrid. Remus had rescued him as he passed with gifts ("You really shouldn't have worn red, Hagrid") and had related the entire episode to Sirius, Harry, and Elen as they put up the trees, causing Harry and Elen to explode with laughter and Sirius to look as blank as Hagrid. After Remus with help from Harry (Elen had retreated to the tiger-skin rug to recover) had managed to explain to both Sirius and Hagrid that the Muggle world had a Christmas tradition of a big man with a white beard and a jolly demeanour who came down the chimney at night and left presents for children, Sirius had told Hagrid to hold still and aimed a Colour-Changing Charm at his beard and hair. He'd then Summoned an old cloak of his father's, changed it from green to red, and enlarged it. Remus had given it a white fur collar. When Hagrid had opened the door for Minerva McGonagall with Hermione Granger and more gifts in tow (including Ron's Christmas gifts for Harry and Hermione, since he was spending Christmas rejoicing with his own family about a half-recovered Bill who had come home the previous week), Hermione had taken one look at Hagrid's white hair and red cloak and buried her face in her hands. When he'd handed both of them a neatly-wrapped piece of Christmas cake with a gold bow on top, she'd been unable to stop the laugh. Minerva had asked him what in blazes he was _doing_ and Remus had had to explain all over again. Kreacher, proudly wearing Regulus Black's _Order of Merlin First Class_ medal around his neck – the Ministry had balked at awarding the Order of Merlin to a house-elf even though Kreacher _thoroughly_ deserved it, so the Blacks had thrown a private ceremony and awarded him Regulus' medal as a token of how much they appreciated what he had done – had made a tableful of delicious Christmas treats from all over the world, and had invented six new recipes, and had hung the entire house with holly and festooned it with ivy and bells and the illusion of snow. He was even wearing a bright red-and-green-striped pillowcase with snowflakes embroidered on it, in honour of the season. It was going to be a good Christmas.

"So what's going on with Hogwarts, Minerva?" Sirius flicked the tinsel expertly around the back of the tree and Harry caught it, coming around the front and making sure it looked spectacular, pushing Crookshanks gently out of the way with his foot. The cat had already stolen two strands of tinsel and was angling for a third. Hermione was politely trying to find a conversation topic with Elen by the other tree as they hung gold and red balls, but after covering Crookshanks and Hagrid-as-Father-Christmas they were struggling to find common ground. Elen didn't know anything about advanced magical theory and Hermione didn't dare ask about life on the run, so the conversation had mostly dwindled into embarrassed smiles and _Could you pass me that ball... no, not that one, the red one next to it... thank you._ "Have you had any luck finding a replacement Transfiguration teacher?"

"I've got a part-timer for the fifth-year and above – Audra Birch, one of my best students from fifteen years ago. But I'm still teaching first through fourth years, because at least for _this_ year I think I can keep on top of it, and next year she'll take over Transfiguration entirely." She looked at him for a second. "I did actually want to talk to you, though. Sirius... Elen's already four years behind his age group; he's going to have to start at first-year level for everything. I know it's going to be challenging, because there's no way he'll be able to handle Hogwarts right now – he'll have to be homeschooled for at _least_ the first two years, I'd put money on it – but every single teacher has agreed at least in principle, and I think we have to try otherwise he'll _never_ catch up."

Sirius shook his head. "I'm not even sure whether Elen has the capacity to use a _wand_ , given that his magic was so tightly bound to his Legilimency not four months ago... wait a moment, Minerva?" He walked over to Elen's tree. "You've done a good job on that. Do you want to try lighting it up yourself?"

Elen hesitated. "Yours is lovely too." He closed his eyes for a long breath, then grasped Sirius' offered wand in a hand that only shook slightly, pointing it gingerly at the tree. _Not all wizards are bad. And_ _ **if**_ _I'm a wizard, I can choose to be a good one._ "What do I do with it?"

Sirius smiled. " _Lumos manere._ Say it, and think of light."

" _Lumos ma..._ " Elen faltered. "Say it again?"

" _Lumos manere._ "

" _Lumos man-eerie._ " Nothing happened.

"It's said MA _-neer-ee_ , Elen," Hermione corrected, and bit her lip to stop herself going further. _This is obviously the first controlled magic he's ever tried to do, don't freak him out, don't freak him out..._

" _Lumos manere –_ ack!" Elen dropped the wand and leapt back as white light flickered weakly from the tip and settled itself over the tree, shining softly. "Sorry."

Sirius laughed and scooped his wand off the carpet. "Well, _that_ particular reaction to a successful casting is going to have to go. But seriously – well done." He smiled. "I guess that means we need to get you a wand. You could learn how to call birds like Remus. Or even learn how to turn into an animal, like me."

Elen smiled back. "I'd like that." _A big black dog like Sirius... that would be wonderful._

"What House do you think you'll be in?" Hermione asked. "You could come to Gryffindor with me and Harry; we'd love to have you..."

"He won't be coming to Hogwarts just yet, Hermione," Sirius corrected. "We're going to try homeschooling." _Too many new people, too much threat. Minerva's right. He'd never handle Hogwarts for more than a day at a time, if that, and I wouldn't bet on him being able to learn anything when he feels unsafe._

Hermione blinked. "Oh." _Actually, that's probably a good idea, at least for now. All of Hogwarts is still buzzing about this and he'd never get any peace. He's still not comfortable around people, not really. And he's so far behind... it'll make him stick out even more._ She turned back to Elen. "Do you want to finish doing the tree?"

Elen studied the tree. "I think it _is_ finished."

"Nah, yeh need somethin' fer the top." Hagrid came through from the kitchen. "Care fer some toffee? Or some 'ot chocolate?"

"Careful of Hagrid's toffee," Hermione warned Elen in a low voice. "It glued our teeth together last time..."

Elen took a piece of toffee, but began to lick it instead of chewing it. "It's nice, Hagrid. Could you..."

"Yes?"

Elen held out the top star. "Please?" _You're tallest._

Hagrid laughed and plonked the star onto the highest branch. "There yeh are. Yeh know..." He shuffled his feet. "Yer okay. Wouldn' have thought it with yeh bein' related ter 'im an' all, but yer actually okay. An' I'm sorry 'bout what Dumbledore did to yeh. He shouldn' have done it."

"Okay..." Elen said very quietly, backing up and preparing to dodge. _If he gets hold of me I'm going to get_ _ **really**_ _badly hurt; he's_ _ **really**_ _strong..._ He glanced at Sirius in a silent plea for help; Sirius came immediately to his side and started talking softly to him. Crookshanks came with him, mewing softly. Hermione backed into the tree, unsure what to do. Hagrid was staring at Elen in bewilderment. _Wha' did I say?_

Minerva tapped Hagrid on the arm, shaking her head. **_Tact_** _, Hagrid._ "Hagrid, come into the kitchen, please. I need to explain to you exactly why this is happening, preferably without Elen being in the same room." _You've just compared Elen to You-Know-Who and mentioned Dumbledore in only two sentences. He's thinking you're going to attack him at any moment, and in many cases – although not this one – he'd be right._

Two minutes later, a howl sounded from the kitchen. "I woul' NEVER! I never meant it like tha'!" Murmuring, and then Hagrid and Minerva came back in. Hagrid's face was tear-streaked. "Elen, I never meant ter hurt yeh, I swear..."

"Yeah. Sirius explained that it came out wrong, that you wanted to be kind. I heard you in the kitchen, too. I just..." He shook his head, then shuddered. "Nobody's ever said that before because they want to be _nice_."

 _And there we have the other reason for him being homeschooled._ Hermione sighed. _Everybody at school's been saying that in one way or another. And the only reason I didn't join in is because I asked Professor Lupin about it after Harry had that picnic with them, and then Harry kept sticking up for him, and I figured I should give him a chance before forming an opinion either way. Well, I've formed one now._

"I won't ever say it." Her voice was even and clear. "I am going to tell everyone I can about the _person_ I met today and decorated a Christmas tree with and warned off chewing Hagrid's toffee to avoid his teeth getting stuck for half an hour, not some cruddy cardboard cut-out villain that everyone _thinks_ they know." _And the rumour-mongers can just find something else to talk about. Knowing them, they'll spread the word that I'm romantically involved with him, and not see the joke that they're_ _ **also**_ _saying he's You-Know-Who reborn. The Slytherins are going to blow a gasket, as my dad would say. You-Know-Who's heir in love with a Mudblood? Their reaction might even get the rumour-mongers to_ _ **think**_ _about what they're saying, although technically speaking that would require them to have at least a thimbleful of sense and maybe that's a bit much to ask..._

"Indeed," Minerva smiled. "Now, shall we forget about this for now and open the presents? I need to take Hermione back home soon – her parents want her back by five so they can go out for dinner – and if we don't start we won't get it done."

Elen had simply got chocolates for everybody, although he had managed to find a box with a tabby cat on for Minerva and had even drawn the spectacle markings on the eyes. (Sirius had reapplied the glamour and taken Elen shopping, and found that Elen was _much_ more relaxed around Muggles than wizards, so they'd wandered into a shopping centre and come out with several different varieties of Muggle sweets. Sirius had been fascinated by jellybeans – _"So all the red ones, and green ones, and blue ones, and whatever, are always the_ _ **same**_ _flavour and there's no horrible ones?"_ – and Elen had simply got all his chocolate boxes and then followed an overexcited Sirius around and around the shop. They hadn't _quite_ been thrown out, but Sirius had seen the manager hyperventilating through the door of the staff section and decided it was time to leave). Hermione had also plunked for sweets, although she'd chosen to get wizarding varieties and Elen accidentally lost a Chocolate Frog in the branches of one of the Christmas trees because he hadn't realised that it jumped. Mrs Weasley had sent Harry a sweater with a Gryffindor lion knitted on it and several items of baking; Ron had enclosed an enormous box of mixed-flavour Chocolate Frogs with a note attached that Harry and Hermione were to share them because they each liked different flavours anyway (which was true; Harry loved raspberry and Hermione could eat three Peppermint Frogs at a single sitting) and that the single large box had meant he could get far more Frogs total so he hoped they didn't mind. The flavoured Frogs had been tossed from one end of the room to the other at a rapid rate as they'd sorted them out. Harry had told Sirius and Remus that Hermione was mad for books, so they had all clubbed together and set up a tab in her name at Flourish and Blotts, because Harry had also had no idea whatsoever about which book she would want. Hagrid had given everyone home baking, which was being treated with great caution. Sirius had given both Harry and Elen charm bracelets of goblin-wrought silver with powerful protective Charms inset and room for more; Remus had contributed a removable dangling Charm to make them invisible while being worn. Both of them had instantly put the bracelets on and Harry had turned his invisible, while Elen had opted to leave his bracelet visibly dangling from his wrist. There was wrapping paper all over the room, mostly due to Sirius transforming and having a fight with it.

"Time to go, Hermione," Minerva said, when all the presents had been opened and the party was winding down.

Hermione stood up. "Thank you for inviting me, Sirius. See you at Hogwarts, Harry." She gave Harry a goodbye hug, smiled over at Elen, gathered up her gifts, and Minerva Side-Alonged her away. Hagrid left soon after, although not before getting Sirius to turn his hair and beard black again.

"That was fun," Elen said, tossing balls of wrapping paper for Crookshanks to chase. He sounded tired, but happy. "I liked your friend Hermione."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah, Hermione's great. We've been friends since first year and she's the best student in our year in absolutely everything academic by a _long_ way, which is great if you're having trouble with something..."

"Lily was like that," Remus remembered. "She helped half the students in our year... she wasn't the best at absolutely everything, Severus had her thoroughly beat in Potions and they kept swapping the top spot in Defence between them, but nobody could touch her at Charms and she was good enough at everything else to be able to help pretty much anyone out..."

"Hey, Moony, you remember that time when James Transfigured that teapot into a white rabbit in seventh year and then Lily gave it a waistcoat because of some Muggle story and then someone got overenthusiastic and the entire classroom floor collapsed down an oversized rabbit hole?"

"That 'someone' would be me," Remus said dryly. "Of course I remember. And don't tell Minerva. I have to keep a straight face around her for three more terms."

Harry leaned back. _Best Christmas ever. I get to spend it with my_ _ **family**_ _, and isn't that a thought I never thought I'd have – even if said family's odder than I would have dreamed before this year started. Godfather, that's not strange in the slightest; godfather's best friend, also not strange; but I would never have dreamed that the only child of the monster who murdered my parents would_ _ **also**_ _be my family now._

* * *

 **Author's Note: I** ** _detest_** **trying to write Hagrid's dialect. As much as I like him, guess why he has less than fifteen sentences in the entire story! The only more difficult thing in the entire HP-verse, dialect-wise, is the Sorting Hat's blasted Song.**

 **I also discovered that I am incapable of writing Ron** ** _without_** **bashing him – and believe me, I did try... so I've cheated. I've kept the Trio and their friendship the same, but I've arranged the story in such a way that I can leave a face-to-face encounter with Ron completely out of it. It's perfectly reasonable that he would celebrate Christmas with his own family, with Bill so recently out of hospital and only half-recovered. And he didn't send Elen a present for the same reason that Harry doesn't send Charlie presents; they don't know each other and they aren't friends. I think they'd have a fairly neutral relationship when they meet in person (which I am** ** _not_** **going to write) – they're not suitable friendship material, but neither of them would deliberately start a fight with the other either. It'd be a vaguely friendly non-relationship.**


	19. Chapter 18

**Chapter Eighteen**

"Well, that went well," Sirius said dryly to Remus at the entrance to Diagon Alley. "I don't think I've ever seen that many people all dive under a single table. What was it, sixteen? Nor do I think I've ever seen that many Muggles walk straight into lampposts. And what were those little boxes they kept holding up?"

Remus sighed. "Those were cellph – cameras, Sirius. Muggle cameras. Small ones. You're still fairly infamous in their world, even though you've been declared innocent, although thank Merlin that Elen's pretty much passed out of their focus now." At Harry's questioning look, he elaborated with "The Muggle-Worthy Excuse Committee worked around the clock for two months to get that blunder fixed, given he's underage and all. I think they said it was some sort of hallucinogenic contamination of their drinking water that gave them all _really_ weird shared dreams, and then they got into the archived TV footage and committed a mild felony against the master tape. But it's still open season for photographs of you, Padfoot. At least they were somewhat discreet about it!" He turned and smiled at Elen, but it was forced. "As for the people in the Leaky Cauldron... they all really ought to know by now that neither you nor Sirius has done anything wrong and there's no reason whatsoever to dive under the table."

Elen hunched his shoulders, flipping his collar up to shield his face. "I'm glad that _someone_ believes that." _This is going to be really, really unpleasant._ "I think we should put the glamour on."

Sirius shook his head. _I wish_. "Look at me, Elen." He waited. "No. No glamour, not any more. If you keep hiding, sooner or later you won't be able to stop. Besides, we're going to Gringotts, and they don't allow that sort of thing. You don't want to fall foul of the Thieves' Downfall. _Believe_ me."

"Sometimes I wish _I_ could go round wearing a glamour," Harry said quietly. "For pretty much the exact opposite reason." He smiled. "Elen, we're in this together. Anyone who wants to get at you has to get through me, and they're not going to do that because they all think they love me. Anyone who wants to get at me has to get through you, and they're not going to do that because they all think you're someone you're not and therefore they think they love you..."

"So there were twenty-three wildly kicking legs poking out from under that wildly wobbling table because people love me?" Elen asked, matching Sirius' earlier tone of dry exasperation almost perfectly. "I would never have guessed. Are you _sure_ we can't have the glamour, Sirius? Just for today?" Sirius shook his head.

Remus tapped the brick to open the gateway as he also answered Elen's plea. "It'll be fine, Elen. You've got us, you're wearing your bracelet, and nothing's going to happen that one or the other won't be able to deal with. And as Sirius said, we're going to Gringotts first and therefore it's a Very Bad Idea. Come on."

Elen slipped over to be close to Sirius and stepped into Diagon Alley for the very first time. It was full of the chatter and laughter of students and their families shopping over their Christmas break, which died down in a spreading circle around them until they were surrounded by silence and suspicious looks. Behind them, whispering was breaking out and several people were pointing.

"It was like this for me last year," Harry said conversationally. "When they thought I was setting the Basilisk on people. They got over it."

"They'd better," Sirius muttered. "I mean, I know I'm handsome, but there's only so much staring a man can _take_..."

Harry hit him. Sirius clutched his chest, pretending to be mortally wounded.

"Sirius, quit it." Remus was fingering his wand inside his pocket. He didn't like the tone of some of the mutters, nor did he like the looks – him and Harry were merely getting odd looks, Sirius a mixture of inquisitive and nervous, but Elen was getting glares. The way that he was half-hiding against Sirius didn't bode at all well for the day's success. "We need to do what we came for as quickly as possible and then go back home." _Elen's not going to hold out facing this level of unfriendliness._

* * *

At Gringotts, Elen had asked Harry very quietly what the tellers _were_ , and he had not enjoyed the cart ride at all, becoming clingy and silent as it shot underground. He'd also been reluctant to take any money from his vault until Sirius had explained that the money did _not_ belong to Voldemort but was compensation from the Ministry for the time spent in prison. By the time they got out of the bank, only for the Alley to again fall silent around them, Sirius was beginning to wonder whether they'd even make it to Ollivander's at all.

* * *

"Sirius Black." The tone was cool and dry. "I hear you've adopted a _very special_ child."

"Malfoy." Sirius moved in front of Elen and grasped his wand in his jacket pocket as Remus got in front of Harry. _The first person to offer any sort of greeting that could even be construed as vaguely friendly, and it had to be_ _ **you**_ _? What the hell do you want?_

"Come now, Black. I'm hardly going to _hurt_ him _._ " Lucius Malfoy sidestepped gracefully so that Sirius was no longer between him and Elen and extended his hand, not to Sirius, but to Elen. "Elen... Black, is it? You must meet my son Draco sometime. After all, you're cousins now." He smiled, but it didn't touch his eyes. "I imagine you will find much in common."

Elen backed away, confused and frightened, clasping his bracelet desperately and ignoring the outstretched hand. _I don't know him! Or you! What would I have in common with a normal child? What could he mean?_ "Your son likes Narnia?"

It was Lucius' turn to look confused. He hid it well, but not quite well enough.

"Muggle fantasy series," Sirius explained with a wicked grin, stepping between them again and drawing his wand openly. "Elen loves it." _You would have to think of that_ _ **right now**_ _, Elen? And then actually_ _ **say**_ _it? But I am going to savour this memory of Lucius Malfoy's face for a long time to come. It's the first time I've ever seen him both stymied and horrified enough to crack that smooth facade. You're not another Voldemort for him to worship, and you're too wary, too well-protected, and too isolate for him to easily influence or harm without getting into more trouble than he can get out of, and I think the Knut's just dropped._

Lucius Malfoy regained control of himself and withdrew his hand sharply, drawing himself up and looking down his nose at them. _Traitorous filth. Salazar Slytherin would turn in his grave if he knew what his bloodline had descended to in you._ "On the other hand, the relationship is only via a blood traitor's adoption, and on the distaff side at that." He sneered. "Perhaps you have less in common with my son than I imagined." He turned on his heel and walked away, swinging his cane nonchalantly but bitterly disappointed, still more so when Elen remained with Sirius and made no attempt at all to regain his favour. _All my hopes of you, everything I'd dared to dream since I heard you existed, since you even got rid of Dumbledore... dashed. I should have known you were worthless when you sent him to Ravenhold to spare him the Dementors, but I was fool enough to hope. My influence could have helped you gain the world, with me in the shadows at your right hand, if you had only been_ _ **worthwhile**_ _... but so be it. You don't have what it takes to even circulate in my spheres, let alone influence them. I won't even go out of my way to squash you. Why should I bother? I have power, and you have none and_ _ **clearly**_ _wouldn't know what to do with it if you had it; so I win without even trying, blood-traitor. Still, I could wish that you were mine and I had a free hand to forcibly remove your... corruption... except that I know it wouldn't work. Your Legilimency will not let me reshape your mind in a more worthy image, you've proven that repeatedly, and I have no desire to spend the rest of my life drooling away my days in St Mungo's. What a waste of time._

" _Must_ you block the entire Alley while you stand and gawp brainlessly? Out of my way!"

The people who'd witnessed the exchange looked at each other as they moved aside, and whispers started up again, this time with a hesitant, questioning tone. _Maybe...? You don't suppose...?_ The word _Narnia_ , in sheer disbelief from those with Muggle heritage, and mispronounced without comprehension from those without Muggle heritage, featured heavily.

"Don't worry about him," Sirius said softly, immediately turning to reassure Elen (the entire encounter had lasted less than a minute). "If you had much in common with Lucius Malfoy besides being alive, male and magical I'd be extremely concerned. And yes, technically you're related, but _all_ the pureblood families are interrelated to such an extent that it's a wonder half the children aren't born with flippers and three eyes."

"On you, that'd be an improvement," Remus said dryly.

Harry laughed, along with some members of the crowd who'd been close enough to hear. Other bystanders – the pureblooded ones – looked offended. Elen didn't even notice the joke.

"Sirius..." _These wizards are going to attack us. They hate me. It's not safe._

Sirius sighed. _And he's now completely overstressed. He's using those breathing exercises as a crutch_ _ **yet again**_ _, and if he was pressed any closer to me we'd be conjoined._ _._ "Just one more stop, Elen. One. And then, yes, we can leave." _Why,_ _ **why**_ _did we have to encounter Lucius Malfoy when you were barely coping anyway? You haven't even seen inside Zonko's Joke Shop yet!_ "Harry, since we're going straight home after Ollivander's, why don't you and Remus go get your replacement quills and an ice-cream at Florian's and meet us back there." Harry nodded and split off with Remus, muttering darkly about animate books that got in a strop and ripped perfectly innocent quills to shreds; and Sirius pulled Elen quickly towards Ollivander's, keeping his wand in his hand and ready to defend at a moment's notice. The glares were dying back somewhat as the astonishing news that Voldemort's heir _liked Muggle fantasy_ spread through the Alley, but Elen was in no state to notice the change, let alone respond to it.

* * *

"Good afternoon." Mr Ollivander appeared silently next to Elen five minutes after they'd entered his mercifully-empty shop, his unnerving eyes fixed on him. Elen leapt backwards into Sirius and grabbed his hand. _How did he sneak up on me like that?_

"Mr Ollivander's always like this, Elen," Sirius said softly, settling back down in the spindly chair (he'd also jumped). "He doesn't mean anything by it."

Elen calmed slightly. "Yes, you said before..."

"... but it didn't do much good." Sirius sighed. "I didn't actually expect it to. Mr Ollivander's got a natural-born talent for scaring the living daylights out of everyone who enters his shop, forewarned or not." _And you were already on edge anyway, what with the day you've had so far. At least Mr Ollivander waited until you'd calmed down a bit. Usually he appears within the first minute._

Ollivander's eyes strayed to Sirius. "Aspen and dragon heartstring, fourteen inches, swishy. Powerful wand, that." He turned back to Elen. "Elen Riddle. I had wondered whether I'd be seeing you."

"I am Elen _Black_." Elen's shaky voice was barely audible. Sirius' voice, saying the same thing, was a great deal louder.

Mr Ollivander bowed his head. "Elen Black... yes, indeed, Elen Black. A Legilimens. Such a powerful talent, and so _very_ dangerous..." He sighed. "The last one... thirteen and a half inches, yew and phoenix feather, destined for great things... of course, if I'd _known_..." He trailed off.

Sirius blinked. _This is weird even for him. What in Merlin's name is he talking about?_ "If you'd known _what_?"

Mr Ollivander blinked slowly and turned to gaze at Elen. "What that wand was going to do. He Who Must –"

"Enough!" Sirius snapped before Mr Ollivander could finish. _As if we_ _ **needed**_ _Voldemort to be brought into this conversation. Elen doesn't seem to have caught on, thank Merlin – we do actually want to leave here with a wand today._ He shook his head at Elen's soft "Sirius?" and whispered, "Nothing, Elen. It's nothing. Mr Ollivander sometimes goes off on _irrelevant tangents_." The last two words were said slightly louder, with a meaningful glare at Mr Ollivander.

Mr Ollivander blinked again. "Very well." _I will comply with your wishes, Mr Black. Perhaps it_ _ **is**_ _better for all concerned that he remains unaware of the similarity._ His voice became brisk. "Which is your wand hand?" He measured Elen's left hand with a tape measure and then flitted around the shop in silence while the tape measure measured everything else conceivable. Elen slapped at it when it tried to measure the distance between his eyes.

"Stop it." The tape measure collapsed as Mr Ollivander returned with a pile of boxes. "Try this one. Silver lime and dragon heartstring, fifteen inches, flexible..."

Ten minutes later, the boxes were piling up. "A tricky customer. Older wizards often are..."

Fifteen minutes after _that_ , Mr Ollivander was beginning to bring dusty boxes out of his back-room storage, and _still_ nothing had chosen Elen.

"Ebony and unicorn hair, thirteen inches, rigid..." A shower of golden sparks. Elen flinched and put the wand down quickly on the counter, backing away from it as if it had bitten him.

"Seven Galleons." Mr Ollivander put it back in the box and wrapped it up neatly. _It's been a long time since I've seen a wizard shy away from magic. But that wand's a good one – steady, faithful, patient, and above all_ _ **not**_ _flamboyant. If any wand's going to win his trust, it'll be that one._ He bowed them out of his shop, smiling, and after they were gone he laughed long and low. _Voldemort's heir, Light-inclined and not easily swayed from it. I would never have believed it had I not seen it with my own eyes._

* * *

After being back at Grimmauld Place for about twenty minutes, Elen was relaxed enough to pick up on the earlier joke, and even take it a bit further, asking a question with no good answer while a truly wicked gleam lit up his eyes.

"Sirius, does Voldemort have flippers?"

The evening descended rapidly from that point. Sirius could barely breathe for five minutes, Elen was in hysterics on the couch laughing at Sirius' attempts to stop laughing, and Harry and Remus – after they arrived back and found out what had started it – were not far behind.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, I never planned for Lucius Malfoy to show up in this story, or indeed even particularly wanted him to. But the moment the story went to Diagon Alley he insisted on barging in, and he wouldn't leave, and what could I do? And yes – by his own reckoning, Lucius wins without even trying... and he's completely right, too. There's no way Elen would manage to gain any sort of political or popular power, or keep it once he had it – he's not the type and simply does NOT have what it takes. The only kind of power Elen's capable of gaining is a** ** _shared_** **power – family, friends, mutual-dependence-and-support kind of thing – and even then his sphere would be small because that level of trust doesn't come easily to him. Not something that would be any sort of threat to Lucius' large-scale "power-behind-the-throne" manipulations, as Elen most certainly does not and will never have that sort of rapport with Cornelius Fudge.**

 **I planned out Elen's wand very carefully, using a guide at the Pottermore forums for the wood and rigidity:**

 **Ebony:** courage to be themselves, holds to beliefs

 **Unicorn hair:** While this core does not generally produce the strongest wands – although the wand wood may enhance its power – wands that have unicorn hair in them are the least flamboyant, decreasing its susceptibility to fluctuations and blockages. Advantages of this core are that it usually produces the most consistent magic, and that it is the most faithful to its owner of the three cores. A wand with a core of unicorn hair is harder to turn to the Dark Arts than dragon heartstring and phoenix feather, a factor that many witches and wizards like.

 **Rigid:** A wand of this flexibility will only give its complete loyalty to an owner who has faced great personal tragedy. It is particularly good for practical magic use, and thus usually doesn't perform well for magic that is frivolous or silly. Rigid wand owners are cautious and have difficulty trusting others, but they are not usually unkind people. Generally, they prefer to be left alone so that they can do what they want to do, regardless of what anyone else says.

 **Sirius' wand also came from this guide – and was also carefully planned – since canon never specified what his wand actually** ** _was_** **.**

 **Aspen:** strong minded, determined, adventurous, outstanding charmwork, also suited to martial magic

 **Dragon heartstring:** This core is the most flamboyant of the three, and often produces the strongest and most powerful wands. Dragon heartstring usually favours ambitious spell-casting and as a result the wand is more likely to turn to the Dark Arts than any other core; however, a wand that has this core will not do so of its own will. Dragon heartstring wands are loyal to their first owner, but when won, their loyalty and sensitivity will be lessened. This core produces wands that are most prone to accidents in wrong hands, being quite temperamental at times and sometimes (albeit rarely) acting of their own accord. The wand is also susceptible to being a twin core.

 **Swishy:** A wand with this flexibility may not be too loyal to its owner and may switch loyalties at a moment's notice. It is particularly good at charms. Owners that are matched with wands of this flexibility may be very sociable and fun-loving with a penchant for some mischief-making. They are usually very clever and prefer not to tie themselves down to any particular way of thinking until they've gathered all that they need to know.


	20. Chapter 19

**To Seena, who made me realise this bit had to be in the story  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Nineteen**

Shortly after the almost-disastrous trip to Diagon Alley, all four Heads of House Flooed into Grimmauld Place on an important quest, all thinking of variations on the same topic. _Even though he's going to be homeschooled, we want him to slowly acclimatise to Hogwarts and be able to come after a few years, and therefore he must be Sorted as soon as possible – before he grows so old that the Hat will refuse. If he even comes to one class a week with his Housemates, or sits down to one meal with them, it will be a start. Even if it takes a year to get to that stage. But there is no way that we can risk that Legilimency unleashing in the middle of a crowd of children, ergo we are doing it now and in private. It's an absolute nuisance that the Hat once belonged to Godric Gryffindor and will only accept a Gryffindor Head of House's hand on it as it Sorts, because Severus would be a better option if Elen loses control. But needs must, and we've got a workaround, although it's going to be awkward._

Minerva truly believed that he'd end up in Gryffindor; Elen had already proven his courage and he already had friends there. Severus was hoping that Elen's bloodline and Parseltongue ability wouldn't trump his personality to misSort him into Slytherin and was making plans to swear the other three to secrecy and have him homeschooled all the way through if he was. _Slytherin House would eat him alive. He's thoroughly unsuited._ Filius was planning out how to dissuade his House's questions for long enough to let Elen settle before they pushed him too far too soon if the Hat decided to put him in Ravenclaw despite him being years behind. Pomona was excited at the possibility of a new Hufflepuff, and was thinking about how she would manage to ease Elen into the House. But only Minerva and Severus had ever met Elen, and Minerva was so adamant that Elen was a Gryffindor that Filius and Pomona had really just come along on the off-chance.

Elen came into the room and stopped by the door, looking cautiously at Minerva and the Hat. Sirius beckoned him on, but he stayed where he was. "Is it really going to read my mind?"

Sirius smiled. "I promised, Elen. Remember? If you go into a fit, the Hat gets whipped straight back off your head and we'll just say it Sorted you Gryffindor."

Minerva shot him an aghast sideways look. _You promised WHAT? Oh, Merlin._ She took a deep breath and reminded herself that hexing Sirius would not help Elen warm to the idea of having his mind read.

"How else would it know which House was right for you? Come and sit down. Be Sorted." _Several years late, but better late than never._ "We're going to have to juggle this a bit, because if that Legilimency _does_ lash out I don't really want to be caught in it again. But if I'm the cat, even if it does it'll just glide over me because I'm no threat, and of course we already know that Sirius is immune. Does that sound accurate to you?" She kept her voice resolutely calm, while the back of her mind gibbered about the possibility of having to keep Sirius Black's rash promise. _Please dear Merlin do not let his Legilimency send him into a fit. Please dear Merlin do not let his Legilimency send him into a fit..._

"Yes." Elen smiled in relief and walked towards her. "I'm almost certain it won't see the cat as a threat." _You're brilliant. I was really worried before I heard that._

"You'll love it in Gryffindor, Elen," Sirius said, bouncing on the balls of his feet. His excitement was contagious. _Up yours, Lord Forever Misspelt. There's no way in the world that_ _ **my**_ _son's going to be a Slytherin._ "Midnight feasts and parties and slipping out after curfew and... oooops..."

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear that." Minerva handed the Hat to Sirius and transformed, leaping onto the table, reaching out her paw to touch the Hat as Sirius lowered it over Elen's head.

"If you _dare_ say Slytherin I'm going to rip out your stitches and turn you into a cushion cover with buttons across your mouth," Sirius muttered under his breath.

Elen shut his eyes to protect them.

 _So what do we have here? You're older than eleven, but I've never met you before... interesting._ Elen felt tendrils rummaging into his mind and went rigid, his Legilimency flaring into life like a short-tempered dragon that had just been poked by a wild horde of hedgehogs. The Hat flinched so violently back that Sirius had to catch it from falling, and sharply withdrew the prying tendrils. When it next spoke, it was so quiet that Elen could hardly hear it. _Oh, child, Dementor-touched. I won't hurt you, Elen. Godric enchanted me himself._ It sighed, a rustle of cloth. _And I can feel you trying your hardest to believe me, but it isn't touching that instinctual reaction at all. Hmmm. How am I supposed to Sort you if I can't see who you are without your magic trying to obliterate me?_

"I'm trying..."

 _I can see that. But your magic sees any mental contact whatsoever as a deadly threat and at your deepest level of instinct you agree with it. This is as natural to you as breathing and is not something that will change easily, if indeed it can ever be changed at all. So, let's try this again, but this time I'll go very,_ _ **very**_ _slow and be as gentle as I can, and I'll withdraw the_ _ **moment**_ _you start reacting, and let's see whether we can't persuade your Legilimency that you are_ _ **not**_ _in danger and get this Sorting done. And then, hopefully, we can go our separate ways and never have to go through something like this again._

What followed was a nerve-wracking fifteen minutes for everyone, as the Hat slowly and gently touched Elen's mind with the lightest touch it could possibly muster, flinching out again every time it touched a fresh memory (about twice every minute). Minerva was – with trepidation – watching Elen jerk-and-settle about twice every minute, skirting the very edge of the Legilimency flare. Elen was worried that the Hat wouldn't withdraw in time to keep his Legilimency barely-latent, and had huddled himself in the chair as Sirius gently and constantly reassured him that it was _going to be all right, you're doing well_. After fifteen minutes, the Hat spoke again, brisk and businesslike this time, although still making the effort to be quiet and distant.

 _Well, Slytherin is most definitely out; you prefer being overlooked to being admired, and if it comes to a choice between obeying your values and acquiring power you'll choose your values every time. Ravenclaw may have been a barely-viable fit if you'd been Sorted sooner; but you weren't and although you're intelligent trying to catch up four years in the House of Wit and Learning when your heart is elsewhere would just make you unhappy. Gryffindor was a contender because of your courage, but overall, everything in your personality points to you being a true..._

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

 _Hufflepuff will accept you, Elen,_ the Hat whispered. _They don't care about blood, and will accept you based on who_ _ **you**_ _are. You will be happy there. And please spare us the mutual trauma and never put me on your head ever again. I'm going to need the rest of the year to recover from you..._

Sirius yanked the Hat from Elen's head. "Hey, you're okay now, it's over. It's over." He hugged Elen hard. "You're okay. Elen, did it hurt you or just frighten you? It shouldn't have hurt you..."

"No. Yes. It was gentle, but it almost reacted _anyway_ ," Elen whispered, and clung to him. "Sirius, I never _ever_ want to wear that hat again, and it doesn't ever want to see me again either..."

Minerva transformed back. "The Sorting is a _once-only_ experience, Elen," she said quietly. "I promise. You're a Hufflepuff now. And for what it's worth, it usually takes less than two minutes and isn't distressing at all." _But then, no student it's Sorted before has had your history. Or your frankly_ _ **pathological**_ _magical defences. Oh Merlin. A successful Sorting with the Hat still intact. When I return to Hogwarts I am going to collapse in my softest armchair with a large glass of Gillywater and have a mild meltdown myself._

Sirius' jaw dropped and he looked incredulously at Minerva. "Hufflepuff? It said _Hufflepuff?_ Why _Hufflepuff_?" He suddenly realised that he sounded disapproving and turned quickly back to Elen. "I mean, there's nothing whatsoever wrong with it, it's got a Light reputation, the Lightest of all four Houses actually, it's great that you're in Hufflepuff and there's no way you're ever wearing the Hat again, I _promise_ , but I was just so _sure_ you'd be in Gryffindor..."

"Hufflepuff's a noble House, Elen," Minerva said. "Their Head of House is Professor Sprout, who teaches Herbology. I would have been glad to have you in my House, but my door will still be open to you if you need help with anything." She smiled and opened the door to the room where the other Heads were waiting. All three looked up, surprised. _Oh please no_ , Severus thought.

"Congratulations, Pomona. You have a new Hufflepuff."

Pomona's mouth fell open and her eyes lit up in unbridled delight. She stood up. "May I meet him?"

"Don't get too overenthusiastic," Minerva warned softly, standing aside and waving her into the room. "He's already distressed, and if you overwhelm him..."

Pomona rolled her eyes slightly. _I know that._ "Hello, Elen." She studied him as he remained with Sirius, trembling, slowly recovering from the ordeal of being Sorted. After a moment, he looked at her, and she smiled at him and continued. "It's wonderful that you've joined my House. Typical Hufflepuffs are steadfast and loyal to our friends, we won't follow anything we don't believe in, we're fair, and we're kind. Given that, we have the honour of being the House that's _least_ attractive to Dark wizards because these particular traits aren't ones they tend to value highly." She smiled again, inviting Elen to join in on the joke, but didn't sigh when he failed to notice it. "I'd like to be one of the first to say welcome to Hufflepuff, but I certainly won't be the last. Hufflepuff House is known for accepting anybody, no matter what. And if somebody _doesn't_ there will be hell to pay. We stick up for each other." _He's reticent, but that's only to be expected. Hufflepuff House will encourage him to blossom. We 'Puffs stick together and it's the very best place to draw a child out of a self-contained shell. Admittedly_ _ **this**_ _one may be a little more of a challenge, but we're not a House to back down. We'll start with one student, get him comfortable with one, and then add some more. Hmmm. Cedric, I think. He's mature for his age, he's a Prefect, and he can be trusted to be both kind and fair. He even tried to quell the wild rumours about Elen without ever having met him, unsuccessfully I admit, but that's still more than I expected even from one of mine._

Despite himself, Elen smiled nervously back at her. It was almost impossible to be afraid of Professor Sprout, who was trailing a bit of stray greenery on her right shoulder and had ingrained dirt on the knees of her robes, and whose eyes were as frank and welcoming as her smile.

 _I think she may be a kind witch, like Minerva. If all the Hufflepuffs are like her, then I think the Hat was right. I could be happy there._ He hesitated, then came forward a half-step, keeping hold of Sirius' hand.

"Hello..."

Professor Sprout smiled yet again. "Hello, Elen. Welcome to Hufflepuff."

* * *

 ** _Hello, Elen. I'm Cedric; I'm one of the Hufflepuff prefects and I'm in fifth-year. Professor Sprout told me you were Sorted to Hufflepuff, and that you were being homeschooled for a while. Maybe even all the way through._**

Cedric sucked his quill and thought hard. _A Hufflepuff. I never in my wildest dreams expected him to be a Hufflepuff. And I'm honoured that Professor Sprout thinks I should introduce myself, but what on earth do I say?_

 ** _I guess you'll be starting everything at first-year level, unless you pick up an optional subject (those are started at the basic level in third-year. Harry should be able to tell you about them if you ask him – and Hermione Granger, who I think you met over Christmas, is taking them_** ** _all_** ** _so you could ask her too). A word of advice: get as much History of Magic into your head as you can while you're still at home, before Professor Binns drains it all back out again with sheer tedium. Most students believe that he bored himself to death one day and simply didn't notice. And if you want to join a class, just to try it, the first-years are a good bunch this year so I think you'd be fine with them... but don't pick History of Magic unless you want to learn how to take a nap._**

 ** _Or Potions. Professor Snape is very strict and the class is in the dungeons, so... yeah. Probably not the best idea. Try Herbology or something first. That's outside. Professor Sprout's a great teacher and you've met her. Or you could come to one of Professor Lupin's Defence Against the Dark Arts classes; he's the best DADA teacher I've ever had, but given that the DADA position is difficult to fill at the best of times it's hardly surprising._**

 ** _If you come. But no pressure. We'll meet you when we meet you. And almost all of us are looking forward to it._**

 ** _We don't bite. I promise._**

 ** _Cedric_**

* * *

 ** _Hello Cedric._**

 ** _Professor Sprout told me that you would be writing. Do you like it at Hogwarts?_**

Elen sighed and cuddled his cat. Those three sentences had taken almost half an hour. _What on earth do I say? His letter's friendly, but Professor Sprout says that he's lived around wizards his whole life and he's a good student, so he'll be good at magic. I'm still afraid of it most of the time if it's not a spell I know or a person I trust. He might as well come from the moon._

 _What would we have in common? Um. Something harmless. Something that not even a wizard could decide to hate me for._

 ** _Do you have a pet? I have an orange cat named Crookshanks._**

 ** _Elen_**

 ** _PS. I don't know what to write to you. Do you want to know anything about me? You can ask. As long as I have the option not to answer._**

* * *

 ** _Hi Elen_**

 ** _Thanks for replying. I must admit I don't really know what to write to you either, so this is going to be interesting. But I would like to at least try to be friends. If that's okay with you?_**

 ** _I have a screech owl named MacPherson. He's old and crotchety and very set in his ways. I wouldn't mind so much if he didn't have the habit of leaving mice in my porridge and feathers in my toast..._**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Now, be honest. How many of you expected a Sorting to Hufflepuff? :-)  
**


	21. Chapter 20

**Author's Note: If you haven't read Elen's Sorting, go back one chapter. I'm sorry; I had a fight with the website and it's taking a few chapters to resolve. Next chapter - _hopefully_ \- should be the last time I have to write an Author's Note along these lines.  
**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty**

 ** _Minerva_**

 ** _Please don't destroy this letter. Somebody has to know this. I had hoped to speak with Harry but the Aurors won't allow it without his guardian's permission. I then tried writing to Sirius, but I can only assume that he destroyed my letter without reading it because he told me to sod off and_** ** _never_** ** _to write again. The Aurors are enforcing this ban, so I turn to you._**

 ** _I have just realised that the diary Harry destroyed in second year was_** ** _also_** ** _a Horcrux. I hope against hope that Voldemort only made two and has been entirely destroyed, but I do not_** ** _know_** ** _. I'm inclined to doubt it. Be on your guard; if Harry's curse scar hurts again it will be a danger sign._**

 ** _Albus_**

 ** _PS. Don't tell Sirius this bit came from me – he won't listen to it if he knows. Elen's mother and stepfather are buried in Kilburn and his grandfather, whom he lived with for two years after his stepfather died from illness, in Scarborough. I can't bring them back, but I can at least tell Elen who they were and where they are via you, in case he wants to visit their graves. Eileen Sinclair – whom Robert named him for when she died in childbirth – Robert Sinclair, and Elen's maternal grandfather Edward Carlyle. It was a small family and there were no other relatives. Not even cousins._**

 ** _I promise I will never try to contact Elen directly. If he ever wishes to write to me I will respond, but_** ** _don't_** ** _tell him. I don't want him to be pressured into writing or feel like I am trying to manipulate him. He has nothing to fear from me, not any more. I am truly, truly sorry. Please believe this._**

* * *

"You have got to be joking," Kingsley said weakly as Minerva finished telling them about the possibility that Voldemort _still_ wasn't going to stay dead. "Please tell me that this is a _profoundly_ failed attempt at a joke." Rufus Scrimgeour looked furious and Amelia Bones had closed her eyes. Sirius had gone white with fear for both Harry and Elen. _That was what he wanted to talk to Harry about? This is a disaster!_ _ **One**_ _of those things took a whole team out without even breaking a sweat, and if it weren't for it overlooking Kreacher we'd all be dead or_ _ **worse**_ _. If he comes back, both my children will have enormous targets on their backs... Harry for being his sworn enemy – and Elen for betraying him in the worst way possible by never being on his side in the first place. Heck, he'd probably murder Elen just for the ignominy of his being Sorted to Hufflepuff, never mind about all the rest of it!_

Minerva sighed. _I wish it was a joke, Kingsley._ "No. No, I'm afraid not." She put still more sugar in her tea. It was up to five teaspoons now. _I finally understand how Dumbledore could be so hooked on those awful lemon drops. It's the stress._

"I didn't think so," Kingsley said. "But I just wanted to make sure. Just in case."

" _Merlin_ ," Amelia Bones breathed. "One Horcrux is bad enough. Two is worse. And _how_ many did you say there were?"

"I didn't," Minerva replied. "Because I don't know, and nor does Dumbledore – that geas would have forced him to tell us everything he knew, because holding anything back would put children in danger."

Scrimgeour drummed his fingers on the table. "A Horcrux is made by shattering your soul..." He trailed off, then his eyes lit up and he smiled like a cat that had sneaked into the pantry and scoffed a gigantic dishful of mackerel-infused cream, and then heard its owner blaming the neighbour's dog.

"What's your _point_?" Sirius bit out. _If nobody knows how many there are, then he could come back at any time and my children will have to be on their guard for the rest of their lives. That's no way to live._

"Think, Black." Scrimgeour's voice was disgusted, but the amusement was also audible. Sirius was just about ready to start hexing him and forget about the consequences. _I knew his sense of humour was as bizarre as the Keeper catching the Snitch, but after twelve years away from him my ability to follow what he's getting at when he's being funny has atrophied..._

Scrimgeour leant back and clasped his hands behind his head, interlacing his fingers and looking incredibly amused. "What is the Department of Mysteries working on at the moment? It could be a quite _remarkable_ trial run... it's a pity your house-elf destroyed that Horcrux, in a way –"

Sirius stiffened, nettled. "And I suppose you would have kept it for Voldemort to use?"

Amelia Bones grabbed Sirius' wrist before he could draw his wand. "Enough, Sirius. Rufus, please explain what you're talking about _right now_ or I will hex you myself and I don't care _how_ much paperwork I have to fill out afterwards."

Rufus Scrimgeour leant forward with his elbows on the desk. "Dementors are shattered souls held prisoner by Dark Magic, yes? Basically?"

"You can let go my wrist now," Sirius said in an aside to Amelia. _I won't hex him before he's finished explaining, at least..._ "You'd have to ask Elen if you need detail, but... yes, I guess so. _And?_ "

"What is a Horcrux but _exactly that very thing_ done willingly?" Scrimgeour clapped his hands, just once, and smiled. "So I think this could be a _brilliant_ small-scale trial run for the Dementor thing. _One_ shattered soul is going to be a hang of a lot easier to deal with than goodness knows how many _hundreds_ of them..."

 _A small-scale trial run?_ "Are you seriously suggesting that we're going to _experiment_ with destroying Voldemort _as practice for something else?_ " Sirius shook his head in wonder and started to laugh. _Now I understand why Rufus was amused. It's_ _ **hilarious**_ _._ "If this works, and it gets out, nobody's going to take Voldemort seriously ever again."

"I hate to have to be the voice of reason here," Minerva said dryly over the slightly-hysterical laughter (which had spread to the rest of the room), "but exactly _how_ similar are they? Really? We don't want another near-disaster like the _last_ time somebody destroyed a Horcrux. The whole team almost _died._ How is Rajah, by the way?"

Amelia sighed and smiled wryly. "As recovered as he's going to get. He's never going to walk again and he's in constant pain, but he simply _won't_ let the Dementor project rest, and that wheelchair of his is a menace. Particularly around stairs. Or anybody else's feet. I have it on good authority that half the Unspeakables have taken to climbing onto desks whenever he whirrs by."

"Well, any one of the team – or _all_ of us – can provide the memory of what the Horcrux was like so we can try to find anything similar," Kingsley said.

Sirius nodded and raised his wand to his head. "No sense waiting. I was conscious for longest – admittedly only by about half a second – so my memory's probably going to be most complete. _Memoriam partum._ "

" _Memoriam partum_ ," Kingsley echoed, withdrawing his own memory and placing it in a vial. "I'll get Dawlish to give his on my way through. Sirius, could you do Kreacher?"

Sirius' eyes widened. "Merlin, I'm a _moron_ – I never even _thought_ of him! Yes, I can do that. And tell you what – I'll even try to talk him into giving a little more." He smirked. "I for one would happily watch him jumping up and down on the obliterated remains of Voldemort's soul fragment. Heck, he might even agree to have that bit of it _broadcast_ …"

Amelia Bones tried to keep her amusement under control as she scribbled a note to herself to inform Rajah of all of this. "Who's going to face down Molly Weasley to get Bill's memory?"

Most of the people at the table looked at Minerva, who shook her head. "Wouldn't it be better coming from someone who was there?"

Kingsley sighed, then nodded. "All right. I've dealt with Dark Wizards without flinching; I'll brave Molly Weasley."

"I'll set up a group to dowse for Horcruxes once we have information on what _exactly_ we're looking for," Scrimgeour said. "Sirius, Elen was highly sensitised to the one in Grimmauld; when you get Kreacher's memory make sure to get his memory as well. That sensitisation to the dormant Horcrux may be _crucial_ to set the parameters of the dowse–"

Sirius interrupted him, blurting out exactly what he was thinking. "And how exactly am I supposed to do _that_ when he's hypersensitive to mental invasion? There's no _way._ He'll think I'm attacking him; he's only had one fit since the Healing and there's no way I'm breaking that run by forcing his mind! The _Sorting Hat_ almost pushed him into a second fit and it's more practiced than anyone at viewing memories! I don't care that I'm immune to his magic; I don't care how much you need it; you can just bloody well forget it!" He took a deep breath to continue berating Scrimgeour, but this time Scrimgeour interrupted him, holding up his hands in surrender.

"You're right. I'm sorry. I take it back." Scrimgeour took a deep breath himself and let it out on his next word. " ** _Damn_** it. I'd completely forgotten about how savage that blasted Legilimency can be, and you're right, forcing your way into his mind to get the memory out would be... well, it just wouldn't work. Not to mention it'd be dangerous – your immunity may not even _hold_ if you're touching his mind, and I can't blame you for not wanting to risk it..." A thought suddenly came to mind. "Sirius, maybe you could persuade Elen to accept Rajah? He's got a light touch and an interesting perspective – comes from being Slytherin, I guess. He might be able to figure out a way to get at what we need _without_ sending Elen over the edge, and he's got enough expertise in dealing with highly dangerous and delicate situations to know when he's out of his depth and to back off. If we can't get what we need from Elen, then we can't get it... but I think you should at least give Rajah a chance to try."

Sirius grimaced. "Fine," he snapped. "I'll introduce him to the idea of meeting Rajah, but you tell Rajah that if he tries to touch Elen's mind I'll defend him to the death and that's assuming that Elen doesn't inadvertently tear him to pieces first. And if I don't think Rajah's _alternative_ method will get at those memories _without_ triggering a fit, the deal's off. Non-negotiable."

"Agreed," Scrimgeour said, because he couldn't really say anything else. _Merlin help us. Rajah, you'd better come through..._

"I'm meeting with Rajah today," Amelia said. "Apparently Dumbledore has come up with a useful idea for dealing with the Dementors, but he says it won't work for anyone but Rajah. So we have to go through the official visiting procedure and permissions and all. I'll tell him about all of this – including your conditions, Sirius – and he can arrange a time with you after Ravenhold to try to get at those memories." She smiled tiredly at Sirius. "I never wanted to hear the word 'Horcrux' again, but at least we won't be taken by surprise."

"Hear hear," Sirius muttered. "And may we _not_ be taken by surprise. I've had just about enough of The Most Monumentally Irritating Dark Wizard Ever! Anything else?"

Minerva opened her mouth and then thought better of it. _I'll investigate the graves myself first. Make_ _ **sure**_ _Elen's family are there before I tell Sirius what Dumbledore told me. And there's no reason to bring it up in front of everybody anyway._ She shook her head. "Nothing that needs to be talked about right now."

"Good," Scrimgeour said. "Why are we all still here? We know what we need to do, so get moving!" He Apparated out.

Minerva stood up. _Hogwarts for Muggle clothes, Kilburn, then Scarborough._ She Apparated back to the gates and began to walk. _And may they be easy to find._

* * *

Two hours later, Minerva was knocking at the door of Grimmauld Place. _They're there, and there were no nasty surprises... like Elen's name also being listed on a headstone as deceased. I made sure to check the entire cemetery. Both of them._

"Minerva." Sirius blinked at her. "What are you doing here?"

Minerva smiled. "I know where Elen's family is buried."

Sirius blinked again. "You're joking. How did you find out who they were, how did you find them, how –"

Minerva put her hand on his. "It doesn't matter. The point is that now we know."

Sirius thought for a second and came up with an answer to his own questions. "Dumbledore. He told you. Didn't he." His voice was flat.

Minerva looked down briefly. _Sirius, sometimes you're too intelligent for your own good._ "Yes. He did."

Anger tightened Sirius' face briefly, and he folded his arms. "Who and where?" _I won't tell him yet. After Rajah's been, I'll go and check it out myself. And if it's all clear, I'll take Harry to his parents' graves as well, and we'll make a day of it._

* * *

 ** _Sirius_**

 ** _Rajah here. I'd like to arrange a time to meet with Elen, and I also need to explain to you what we need from him. Don't worry – I do in fact plan to use an alternate method to access his memories, and it won't activate his defences. I can almost promise. But it's possible that we'll need not just the memory of the Horcrux, but also his impressions of the Dementors._** ** _Please_** ** _don't throw this in the fire; I swear on my magic that I'm not asking gratuitously. If there was any other way, we'd take it. If Dumbledore used Legilimency on the Dementors – and given his curious mind he may have done just that – he might be able to provide the memory we need and I plan to ask him to do just that, but if he can't then I'm afraid it's going to_** ** _have_** ** _to be Elen if our spell to destroy them is going to have any hope of working..._**

* * *

 **Author's Note: Would you believe that BOTH Elen's parents' first names mean "light"? I chose them** ** _randomly_** **just to get names in there, and then looked up the meanings with a view to changing them… well, they didn't get changed because the meanings were just perfect. And of course, since I chose the name "Eileen" to make it so that Elen was named for his mother, his name** ** _also_** **means "light". I also found out recently that the Latin word** ** _lenis_** **means "gentle/mild/kind" (among other things), so let's just pretend I did that deliberately.**

 **Incidentally, I say it "EE-len" – "len" to rhyme with "Ben".** **Just in case anyone's interested.**


	22. Chapter 21

**Author's Note: Because of the problem I had on the site, the previous chapter did not send out an alert. So if you're following along chapter by chapter, you'll need to go back one.**

 **Sorry about that. From now on the problem is completely solved, and if I ever want to** ** _completely_** **change the content of a chapter again, I know to update it rather than delete it and repost!**

 **Also, I've removed all the review replies from earlier in the story. I'm sure everybody's read their reply by now, and they're just cluttering it up.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-One**

Ravenhold Fortress was not set up for wheelchairs. Even magically-enhanced ones. There were no elevators and the stairs, just wide enough for the wheelchair to tip over in, were also winding. Rajah had exhausted his vocabulary of English and Indian-dialect swearwords six floors ago, and was now swearing fluently in Old Norse as he wrenched the wheelchair around yet another corner and Auror Amanda Copeland – yet again – caught it before it took a plummet. The stone ravens in the wall niches turned their heads to follow his slow progress with gleaming golden eyes. _I wish Dumbledore could have been moved for this meeting. I can now personally attest to one of the obvious downsides of being oathsworn to remain in one place for thirty years, and to top it all off I'm running out of languages. One more floor and I'll be swearing in hieroglyphics, and after that it's anyone's guess._

"Thank you so much for coming." Dumbledore looked wan, with deep shadows under his eyes. "I'm truly sorry about the stairs, but I couldn't send Fawkes to you without causing a full-blown incident and... well." He smiled wryly at Auror Copeland. "I hope they weren't too much trouble."

"Not at all," Rajah said with irritation and a mental sigh of relief, levitating himself through the doorway. Auror Copeland was standing guard behind him with wand drawn, giving Dumbledore a warning look. "It was the blasted _wheelchair_ that was the problem. This place hates it even more than I do. I almost got tipped down the stairs five times even _with_ Stabilising Charms. Why did you need me in particular?" He pulled himself up weakly in the chair, straightening his shattered back with a stifled moan of pain. _Let's hear your reason for putting me through all that. Knowing you, it'll be a good one._

"A gift," Albus Dumbledore said softly. "You're the best theoretician the Department of Mysteries has, and one of their most powerful wizards, and for this problem they need you _whole_ , not holding yourself together by a thread." And suddenly there was a phoenix on Rajah's lap, weeping. Rajah blinked in astonishment as the injuries the Horcrux had inflicted healed, and sat up slowly. Then he _stood_ up slowly, making sure to spare his still-crippled leg, which hadn't healed. _Too old, probably. It got blasted by Grindelwald's Dark Magic when I was only thirty-two, and I'm pushing eighty now. Merlin. I wasn't expecting a reason that was quite_ _ **this**_ _good!_ "Thank you _very much_ , Albus. And to Fawkes as well, of course." He conjured himself a cane, bowed to both of them, and stepped down from the wheelchair, graceful even with the twisted limp. "And now, if you don't mind, I'm going to Vanish that thing. I am _walking_ out of here if it's the last thing I do." Auror Copeland tried to suppress a laugh.

"Not at all," Dumbledore said, joining in on the chuckle. "I prefer to have floor space myself, Rajah. If we're going to figure out how to mesh phoenix song with the Patronus, we need every advantage we can get." _It's too late for Elen to pick up the pulverised traces of his old life. He probably remembers almost nothing of it anyway, and nobody from it remembers his existence – due to me again, and I'm sorry for that too, but lifting my Memory Charms after this amount of time would harm the Muggles beyond measure. It's best for him if he starts over. He has a family in Sirius and astonishingly in Harry as well, and an extended support network through Sirius in Remus and Minerva, and that's a better outcome than I had any right to expect. But I have to do_ _ **something**_ _, and I cannot think of a better way to actually fix the harm I have caused than to offer my knowledge and expertise to the researchers in the Department of Mysteries so that we can destroy the Dementors. If anything will convince Elen that I will_ _ **never**_ _hurt him again, even if he never fully recovers and still avoids me until the day I die, the destruction of the creatures that I used to cause all that damage has the best chance._

Rajah blinked as he sat down in Dumbledore's chair. "You're not such a shabby theoretician yourself. We had the idea of sunlight, as bright as we could get it – _solux maxima_ is the incantation, but it's highly unstable when cast alone – and meshing _that_ with the Patronus to weaken them..."

Dumbledore shook his head. "Also a brilliant idea, but you'll never get both in there; the Patronus will take sound _or_ light but not both... look, you can either have, hmmm..." _This would be so much_ _ **easier**_ _if I had my wand._ He leaned back. "Imagine a white piece of parchment – that's the Patronus – and then you can have either a round red stamp for the phoenix song to bind to _or_ a square purple stamp for the sunlight Charm, but they have to be stamped on _exactly_ the same place and if you do that the ink bleeds together and you end up with a muddy smudge rather than two spells..."

Rajah called his Patronus and tempted the gigantic silver spider onto his shoulder. "We've got the sunlight Charm partially-meshed already; it needs separate casting but once it's in it _stays_ in." He looked over at the door. "Auror Copeland – put these on or you'll be blinded." He held out a pair of sunglasses, and gave another pair to Dumbledore, finally putting on a pair himself. " _Solux –"_

"Wait!" Auror Copeland pointed her wand at the guarding raven in the niche above Dumbledore's bed, Charming it so that it also wouldn't be blinded. "Otherwise Dumbledore will be stuck in pitch-darkness for four days. And that's not even getting into what will happen if it's blind for more than an _instant_."

"The first of those is not an experience I wish to repeat," Dumbledore said gravely. "I stubbed every single one of my toes that week. The second, I am quite sure, would be worse. Thank you."

Rajah bowed to her with a half-smile and touched his wand to his Patronus. " _Solux maxima._ "

The Patronus blazed out so brightly that it looked like a single point of white-hot flame. Rajah could hardly be seen, and when he dismissed his Patronus again all three of them had to blink away spots from their eyes.

"However," Rajah continued, "if Fawkes is willing then I think the phoenix song is a better idea to bind to the Patronus because it will act _directly_ against their evil and strengthen the imprisoned souls as well. It might even give them the strength to shred their way free of the Dementors and escape! Also, Rufus came up with a very interesting point about the Horcrux problem..." He explained, and Dumbledore's eyes started to dance. _Indeed. What a_ _ **very**_ _interesting way of looking at it._

"You're saying that Horcruxes are by their very nature a single shattered soul, so they might be similar enough to Dementors to do a trial run on..." He knitted his fingers together and leant back. "I understand why Rufus was so very amused. What would happen if we were to not only get phoenix song and sunlight into the Patronus Charm, but also the most powerful _Healing_ Charm we could find? That wouldn't set off the protections because you wouldn't be aiming to _hurt_ it as such. You'd be aiming to make it _better._ "

"And the fact that Healing it would wrench it free of the Horcrux and let the sunlight and Patronus and phoenix song work together to destroy its evil and therefore destroy You-Know-Who would be just a side effect..." Rajah started to laugh. _Oh, that's priceless._ "And if they're not similar enough, the only thing that will happen is that _nothing_ will happen and we'll just have to blast the Horcrux into oblivion." He suddenly thought of a problem. "The power requirement's going to be astronomical..."

"But the spell should act on them _all_ if we can just find _one_ more, given that we're only dealing with a single soul here," Dumbledore said with a slow smile. _Voldemort, stop at only two? I doubt it._ "I'm sure we'll find a way to link the Healing components together inside the Patronus, so if we can just manage to stabilise that sunlight Charm so that it doesn't explode, or bind it to a different base that won't interfere with the other components..." The discussion rapidly got both technical and complicated, punctuated by explosions and multicoloured smoke as Dumbledore talked Rajah through the _Voxspatium_ charm with modifications to capture Fawkes' singing rather than Rajah's own voice, and then talked him through how to bind it to his Patronus. Auror Copeland sighed as she lost the thread. _Rajah's oathbound to not help Dumbledore escape and not provide him with a wand. Dumbledore's oathbound to not even_ _ **try**_ _to escape and the cell's warded to not allow him to deliberately hurt himself or anyone else, so even if he did manage to get Rajah's wand off him somehow it wouldn't do him any good with his magic dead._ She conjured herself a chair in the corridor and sat down, still watching Dumbledore closely but letting the incomprehensible conversation slide over her.

Almost three hours later, Rajah had a singing spider on his shoulder, and Fawkes was looking disconcerted. Dumbledore was laughing.

"Thank you." Rajah dismissed his Patronus and Fawkes shook out all his feathers and hid his head under his wing, warbling in the back of his throat. Dumbledore reached out and stroked his phoenix's back, reassuring his confused pet with soft comforting murmurs. "That's going to be really, _really_ useful. But I did have one thing I wanted from you, too."

Dumbledore looked up. "Yes?"

"Did you happen to use Legilimency on the Dementors?"

Dumbledore took a sharp breath as the geas came crashing down on him, full-force. _They're trying to spare Elen. Oh, I wish, I wish my memory was strong enough to help..._ "I did, yes, and of course you can have my memory and welcome to it. But it probably won't be much use to you. I'm sorry. I only barely heard the trapped souls, and I certainly didn't see whatever Elen sees... here, take it, take it." He focused, bringing the memory to the forefront of his mind. "I hope I'm wrong. Take it."

" _Memoriam partum._ "

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, that's the third and last time you'll meet Dumbledore in this story. I hope I've achieved my aim of** ** _not_** **bashing him.**


	23. Chapter 22

**Chapter Twenty-Two**

"Rajah!" Sirius stared at him in shock for a moment, then remembered what he had to ask. "Two or one, tell me now."

"I'm sorry, it's two. And to answer your unasked question... Dumbledore's still a manipulative bastard," Rajah said softly with a wry half-smile. "He _insisted_ that it had to be me who came just so he could get his phoenix to Heal me! And here's me swearing the air blue all the way up those blasted stairs and thinking to myself, he'd better have a _really_ good reason for putting me through all this... well, it turns out that he did, but _Merlin_ his sense of humour is strange _.._." Elen came up behind Sirius and Rajah smiled warmly, bowing his head to both Sirius and Elen. _So, Elen. Finally we meet._ "Namaste. Thank you very much for inviting me here."

Sirius almost laughed at the smooth change of subject, notwithstanding how cold he'd gone when Rajah had confirmed that they needed _both_ memories from Elen. _Clearly Dumbledore couldn't help – and with that geas, it really_ _ **is**_ _"couldn't"... not "wouldn't". Insert litany of swear words right now – asking Elen for his memory of_ _ **that**_ _could blow up in our faces. But not mentioning Dumbledore around Elen is the best possible way to start the worst possible conversation._ He held out his hand and Rajah shook it; Elen kept at a distance and stared at Rajah warily. Rajah smiled at him again.

"Rajah...?"

"Yes. I'm Rajah. It's a pleasure to meet you."

"Sirius said you'd be in a wheelchair."

 _Oh, so that's why you're skittish. You don't trust that I am who I say I am._ "I was very badly hurt and I _was_ in a wheelchair, but I got Healed recently. Magic can be a wonderful thing."

Elen nodded, coming stiffly forward to a point slightly behind Sirius, keeping out of Rajah's reach. _If the Healers could Heal_ _ **me**_ _, they can Heal anything._ _A broken back was probably less difficult! But I don't know you._

Rajah continued smiling kindly, trying to catch Elen's eye. "I came because we need your help, Elen. Did Sirius explain anything to you?"

"Yes. Sirius told me. You came to find out how I sensed the Horcrux so you can find if there are any more." He grimaced. _Get this over with so he can leave._ "It just felt wrong. It felt like... I didn't like it. It was _dead_ and _rotting_ , and it was alive..." He trailed off in confusion. "It felt familiar, and it was _horrible_. And none of that makes any sense."

"Sometimes there aren't words to describe it," Rajah said gently. _Familiar? If he's got a mental link with Voldemort Sirius will hit the stratosphere without a broom._ _Unless... unless we're actually right about the similarities between Horcruxes and Dementors, and it's the_ _ **shredding**_ _of the soul that seems familiar rather than the soul_ _ **itself**_ _. And I see Sirius has left me to tell you the worst part – probably because you would never have agreed to meet me at all if you'd known I was going to ask you this. Or maybe it was because my letter to Sirius put it as a strong_ _ **possibility**_ _that we'd need it but I wasn't certain. Nevertheless, it's fallen to me to tell you._ "But that was only _part_ of it. We need you to do something very important for us, but it's not going to be easy for you. It'll help us create the spell to destroy the Dementors and free the souls they hold captive, and _perhaps_ it will even help with the Horcruxes as well."

"Okay..." Elen faltered. _What else could he want from me?_

Rajah looked him straight in the eyes. "I won't lie, Elen. This will be tough. We need to know how the Dementors work so that we can make sure our spell will work. And then we can try to figure out whether the Horcrux seemed _familiar_ because of your blood link to him, or because you know what a shattered soul looks like. And we can try to dowse for them based on that."

The blood drained from Elen's face as his breath caught in his throat and his eyes went wide. "The Dementors... you need me to talk about _them?_ " He shuddered and backed up a couple of paces, almost stepping on Crookshanks. "I just want to _forget_..."

Rajah limped through the hall to the dining room at Sirius' gesture, cane clicking on the floorboards, and sat down at the head of the table as Sirius followed, coaxing Elen. "I understand. Not from personal experience, of course, but I can imagine it to an extent." His voice was soft and kind. _You're still traumatised, as anyone would be after that. Of_ _ **course**_ _you just want to forget._ "I wouldn't want to remember it either if it was me – honestly, to _want_ to remember something like that you'd have to be utterly insane, and you're not. But we have to know what we're dealing with to make _sure_ that our spell is set up correctly to destroy them forever, and you're the only one who can show us that. There isn't anyone else."

Elen shivered all the way up his body. _Be brave. Be brave. Wait..._ " ** _Show_** you? **_NO!_** I'm not going back to Azkaban, _never_ –"

Rajah's eyes widened and he leaned forward, raising his empty hands in a placating gesture and speaking quickly. "No no no, of course not. No. You've misunderstood. We're not asking that. We'd _never_ ask that. **_Never_** _._ "

 _Merlin. I never_ _ **dreamed**_ _you'd think I'd even_ _ **consider**_ _... Elen, the Aurors have the situation under control there, the Dementors are weakened from their loss of "food" so they can't break through the Patronus Wards and start attacking people at random, and therefore there's nothing in the world that would make me force you through that again! And none of my team would either – in fact, they'd hex me into oblivion if I tried! I may be a Slytherin, and I may be willing to use whatever methods I have to in order to get what we need, but there are_ _ **limits**_ _!_

Elen blinked, still tense. "What _are_ you asking?"

Rajah smiled, trying to reassure. "You don't even have to leave this room, and Sirius can stay with you for every single moment. You'll be completely safe at all times. I promise. What I propose is to use a charm that copies memories. _Memoriam partum_ , it's called –"

"No," Sirius interrupted. "Rajah, if that's the best option you've got you can leave right now. I _told_ them, I told you, _no touching Elen's mind!_ _ **IT IS NOT AN OPTION!**_ "

"You can't touch my mind. I'll hurt you. I'll _hurt_ you," Elen said softly but with complete conviction, calming somewhat at the assurance that he was _not_ going to be forced back inside Azkaban. "Are you _sure_ there isn't anyone else?"

Rajah took a deep breath. _Elen's starting to accept that he needs to share his memories, with strong reservations, and Sirius is having conniptions. Twenty seconds ago it was the other way around. Forty-seven years in my dream job and I'm still having to remind myself that nobody ever told me it would be easy._ "Sirius, I'm going to explain to Elen first and then I'll explain the plan to you – it's not what you think it is." _If Elen gets scared off, this will be dead before it even has a chance._ "I promise I won't do anything without _both_ of you agreeing to it. Okay?"

"It better not be," Sirius said in a threatening tone, resting his arm across Elen's shoulders protectively. "Fine. Keep talking."

"Okay. Elen, the reason we can't use anyone else is because nobody else can hear the souls properly. A very powerful Legilimens I know tried, _knowing_ the souls were there, and he heard them... but faintly, so faintly that his memory was of no use to us. You, on the other hand, are attuned. So we need you. We can't afford for this to go wrong in case we only have one shot at it."

"Because if you fail they'll try to stop you trying again," Elen breathed. "They're not stupid."

Rajah shook his head. "That's not the problem exactly – they're well caged on the island and they're not going anywhere as long as we can keep the Patronus Wards up – but I'd hate for a failed spell to act as an inoculation against one that _would have_ worked. The spell's going to be complicated enough that if it fails it'll leave residue, and dealing with that _and_ the original problem may very well be beyond us. But if we can get the spell to succeed..." He trailed off, leaving Elen to finish the sentence, and reached down to tickle Crookshanks' ears. Elen smiled slightly as Crookshanks purred, and Rajah smiled back at him. _Yes, Elen. Look. Your half-Kneazle cat knows that I'm telling you the truth._

 _To stop them._ Elen took a deep, shuddering breath. _To stop them forever. To stop anyone else ever suffering what I did, or worse. To set_ _ **everybody**_ _free. And just as a bonus, to maybe help stop Voldemort's rotting corpse coming back and killing more people._ He took another breath and tightened his grasp on Sirius. "All right. Yes. Yes. But you _can't_ touch my mind... I can only control it when my mind _isn't_ being interfered with _..._ I'll try not to hurt you. If I can. But you _can't_ touch my mind, you just can't..." _Please don't force me to hurt you. I won't mean to, but I know I will._

"He's not going to touch your mind," Sirius said. " _Are_ you, Rajah?" Again, his voice was threatening.

"No, I'm not," Rajah said. _I have Elen's agreement, thank Merlin. Now I just need them to understand my proposal._ "Which is why I won't be performing the spell. Elen will. It's a simple spell, and if he gets it wrong twenty times in a row all that will happen is that _nothing_ will happen twenty times in a row. It's designed to never, ever malfunction – no matter _what_ the caster does wrong. This means that it either works completely right, or it doesn't produce so much as a single spark. We experimented thoroughly with it twenty-odd years ago, and it's _completely_ safe. One of the researchers even tried casting it with a _broken wand_ and it didn't malfunction. Given that Elen certainly won't see his _own_ mind trying to get into his _own_ memories as a mental invasion, and since the method is completely safe even though he's unpractised... is that okay, Sirius?"

Sirius blinked, mentally hit himself in the head, and relaxed his protective grip across Elen's shoulders. _Why didn't I think of that? Although unpractised is putting it mildly – in the sixteen days he's had his wand, I've managed to teach him exactly three spells and he can only do Lumos with any reliability._ "Yes, I guess it is. Okay."

Rajah drew his wand and Elen scrambled backwards, right hand going straight to his protective bracelet. Crookshanks hissed and took a swipe at Rajah's bad leg.

"Put it down!" Sirius advised sharply, catching Elen's arm before he could bolt and moving between him and Rajah. _And that would be why I didn't think of it..._ "He doesn't know you, you didn't warn him that you were going to get your wand, he doesn't know what you're going to do, and he's already quite stressed _enough_."

Rajah obeyed even before Sirius' explanation, immediately placing his wand on the table and letting go of it. Crookshanks promptly leapt up and lay on it, growling. "I'm sorry." He looked down contritely. "I was _told_ he was shy of wizards and magic, and like a complete idiot, I got enthusiastic and went far too fast."

"It's okay." Elen edged halfway out from behind Sirius, still ready to retreat at any moment. "If you _don't_ point it at me, you can pick it up again."

"I never intended to point it at you," Rajah said, as he cautiously and gently shifted Crookshanks to get at his wand. "I'm going to demonstrate the spell on myself, all right?" Elen nodded and Rajah lifted the wand to his own temple, forehead creasing in concentration. _Now to get Sirius to laugh so that Elen relaxes. I can't afford to make another mistake like that._ " _Memoriam partum._ " He pulled his wand slowly away from his temple and a shining silver thread, about five inches long, came with it. "This is a copy of my memory of the most entertaining dinner I ever attended at Hogwarts. My friends and I had released Nifflers into the Great Hall and they created glorious chaos – stole all the cutlery, and since I had friends in all four Houses we'd managed to either con or bribe everybody into not wearing any jewellery that day. Took us four months to set it up." He chuckled. "It was worth it just to see everyone's _faces_. Well, almost. We hadn't realised that the Astronomy professor had a gold tooth, right in the back, and _that_ traumatised the entire school." Sirius let out a great bark of laughter and Elen looked at him in confusion. _What's so funny about a gold tooth?_

Sirius got control of himself, quelling his loud laugh to a few stifled sniggers. "I'll explain later, Elen." _Merlin. I didn't expect him to say something_ _ **amusing**_ _._

Rajah withdrew a vial from his robes and flicked his memory into it, where it swirled and shone. "And that's it. That's all it takes. Concentrate really hard on the memory you want to copy, say that incantation, and put it in the vial. We need a memory of any time you sensed the Horcrux in this house, and a memory of Azkaban."

Elen shuddered, but nodded. _They need it._ "Only _one_ of Azkaban."

"Only one," Rajah agreed immediately. _I expected that._ "I'm afraid it will have to have at least one Dementor in it, but aside from that requirement you can choose any memory you like from within, say, the final two years." _Not that there's any comfort in that._ _They're_ _ **all**_ _nightmares. I know they are, and I really do feel for you, Elen, but we need it._ "Sirius' rescue of you might be a good choice – at least it turned out well – but feel absolutely free to pick another one if you want to. And Elen..." He shook his head. "You're one of the bravest people I've ever met, to agree to do this. Don't ever let anybody tell you otherwise."

Elen smiled nervously and took his wand out of its box on the mantelpiece. "Um... is it going to wreck anything if I get the spell going _before_ I try to go back there? Breakfast this morning or something?"

Rajah smiled. _Of course you can. Whatever makes you comfortable enough to give us what we need._ "That's an excellent idea."

"Okay. _Memoriam partum._ " The spell didn't work the first time, or the second after Rajah corrected his pronunciation, but as Rajah had said it didn't malfunction in any way either. After thirty-five failed attempts, Rajah called a halt.

"Stop, Elen. Stop." He sighed and smiled. "And please relax. You're not in any sort of trouble. I shouldn't have expected you to master it so quickly." He looked at Sirius. "I think it's best if I leave and come back after the spell's working – no matter how long it takes. Could you keep practising with him?"

Sirius nodded. "Sure."

"Try for good memories first, Elen," Rajah said quietly as he stood up, letting the cane take all the weight from his left leg. "Something you _want_ to think about. That may prevent the block from becoming stronger. I just need to talk to Sirius for a moment, and then I'll leave you alone until later." He limped out into the hall with Sirius and made sure to shut the door.

"How much magic does he know?"

Sirius blinked. "Counting the Legilimency?"

"No. Wanded."

" _Lumos_ , enough of the matchstick-to-needle to give it a point but not turn it silver, and he's had one successful casting of _Wingardium Leviosa_ in twelve tries – but when the feather moved he got startled and dropped his wand, and that was the end of that." He looked at Rajah flatly. "Not much."

Rajah sighed. "I didn't realise it was _that_ little. But it's a mid-first-year-level Charm even if it's not part of the Hogwarts curriculum, and he's older than usual and therefore more able to completely focus, so he might just pull it off. Don't let him overwork on it, though; the last thing we need is for him to get frustrated. I work with Hufflepuffs and they can be absolutely relentless and most unforgiving of themselves, no matter whether the problem's their fault or not. Try to keep it lighthearted and relaxed, because that'll give him the best shot. I'll keep Scrimgeour off your backs."

* * *

Five days later, after Elen (in complete frustration at his inability to give Rajah what he needed) had horrified Sirius by suggesting that Snape recast the Imperius Curse on him and _force_ him to do the spell correctly, Sirius had made a new Rule. He was only allowing Elen to try the spell ten times per day, and if all ten times failed Sirius added one more spell to the combined pranks he was casting on himself. So far he'd turned his own skin yellow, offset it with black stripes and pink polka dots, would go around talking in rhyme for ten minutes every time the clock struck six, and grown bright blue rabbit's ears. He'd assured Elen that all of this was _instantly_ reversible, and so far, every new mutation had made Elen laugh. Remus had unexpectedly walked in three days after the Rule began, taken one astounded look, and walked straight back out again; when Sirius had followed Remus had fled for the sake of his sanity, tears streaming from his eyes and helpless laughter racking his body. And then, on the eleventh day, on the sixth attempt, Elen got the spell to work for the first time, and it did _not_ trigger a fit. Sirius let off his excitement by instantly reverting to normal and then tearing up and down the stairs from top to bottom sixteen times in Animagus form before transforming back and swooping Elen into a huge, delighted hug.

"Well done! Oh, well done! What memory did you choose?"

Elen smirked. "The moment where you suddenly realised you'd talked yourself into having to find a rhyme for _boing_ and those enormous blue ears puffed straight out."

Sirius laughed. _It worked. It worked. I am a genius._ "Did you put it in a vial?" At Elen's nod, he continued with, "Good. Because we're saving that one for when I need a laugh. I'm sure I looked a right idiot..."

"You did," Elen said, voice shaking. "You really did."

* * *

 ** _Hi Cedric_**

 ** _Sirius has found a really, really horrible way to stop me getting frustrated when I can't do something... (photograph enclosed)_**

 ** _Elen_**

* * *

 ** _Hi Elen_**

 ** _I am never, ever opening a letter from you in the Great Hall ever again. I laughed so hard at those gigantic fluffy blue ears that the entire House wanted to see the photo. Is it okay if I show them?_**

 ** _Cedric_**

* * *

 ** _Hi Cedric_**

 ** _Sirius says what the hell, Remus will probably cast it on him at random moments for the rest of his life anyway. It's fine._**

 ** _Elen_**


	24. Chapter 23

**Author's Note: I probably ought to warn people that there is nightmare fuel in this chapter. Don't read it right before you go to bed. You'll regret it.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Three**

"Come on, Elen." Sirius put his hands on his shoulders. Sharing the memory of the Horcrux had gone smoothly, probably because it had neither attacked nor hurt Elen, but this was certainly not true of the Dementors of Azkaban. "I'm right here. You're safe. And you _can_ do this." Rajah nodded. He was staying out of it as much as possible, but he'd brought up the very telling point that if the choice was between making sure that both the memories made it into the vials and taking care of Elen afterwards, what would Sirius do? Sirius had grimaced and invited him over.

Elen took a very deep breath and shut his eyes. _To stop them forever..._ " _Memoriam partum._ " He focused on the night Sirius had come for him, concentrating on the dog that had surprised him such a long time ago, and staying with the memory until its conclusion... barely. He shuddered and almost threw the silver thread in the direction of the second vial, then flung his wand to the other side of the room and bolted, Crookshanks right beside him, Sirius a few steps behind.

Rajah studied the innocent-looking silver thread. _This is not going to be easy for any of us to look at. But hopefully, it's enough._ He stood up, stretching his stiff knee as it gave him a painful twinge, then cast every protective Charm he could think of at the vial and made several copies of the memory, putting three of them through the Floo system to different dropboxes in the Department of Mysteries. _Better safe than sorry. If it got damaged and we had to ask him to give it again he_ _ **might**_ _, maybe, but there's no reason to risk a flat refusal if some simple precautions will prevent us ever having to ask._

Sirius and Elen came back in. Elen tensed, seeing Rajah was still there. "No more." He buried his face in Crookshanks' fur. "No more."

Rajah shook his head. "No, of course not. I only waited so that I could thank you. You were incredibly brave and you worked so hard to give it to us; I can't thank you enough. Sirius, I used your Floo to send copies of it back to my office; I hope that was okay. I didn't want to risk anything happening to it and having to ask him to give us the same memory again."

"Be my guest." Sirius nodded to him. "I hope it's what you needed."

"So do I," Rajah said at the same time as Elen. He smiled, but Elen backed up warily, tightening his hold on Crookshanks until the cat protested.

"I'm **_not_** doing it again." _I gave you what you asked for, there are Dementors in it, and I'm done._

Rajah nodded. _Good thing I made several copies._ "Fair enough. If it's not what we need we will find another way that _doesn't_ mean we have to use you. I promise. And thank you once again. Thank you so very much." He turned on the spot and was gone.

* * *

"I've got them," Rajah said triumphantly. He held out the vials. "The Horcrux memory _and_ the Azkaban memory. I also made about ten copies of the second one because I was right; Elen's already made it very clear that he will _not_ give another memory of that, and I already promised that he wouldn't have to."

"So, let's see the Dementor one," Ben said, trailing his fingers down the length of his wand. "I want to know whether we're on the right track."

Ruth worried at her lower lip and glanced at Carrington. "I vote to view the Horcrux one first," she said. "It's less likely to have me hiding under the table afterwards."

"Seconded," Carrington said, backing her up even though he was burning with curiosity to see the Dementor memory. Ben grimaced, but nodded with poor grace. _I guess we'll see them both anyway._ "Fine. Horcrux. Go on, Rajah – do it."

Rajah poured the memory vial into the Pensieve.

* * *

"Elen, I don't get it," the memory-figure of Sirius Black said from near the sink in the kitchen, looking at Elen, frozen just beyond the door to the hall, obviously trying to talk himself into coming closer. "You've been in here before; you've been coming in this room since the first day we arrived. Why are you suddenly scared of it?"

"I don't _know!_ " The memory of Elen shook its head. "Something's wrong. It feels _wrong_."

"Yes, but what on earth _is_ it?" Sirius asked.

"Indeed," Rajah commented. "We all know now that it's a Horcrux, Elen, but what on earth are you sensing _about_ it?" He looked around. "It looks perfectly normal to me."

"Same here," Ruth echoed. Carrington nodded, forehead creased.

"Not to me," Ben said. "Those shadows are going _towards_ the window, but the window is the light source. And they're sharper than they should be. Look at _my_ shadow; compare it to the shadow in that corner." Rajah's team instantly stampeded to look, and Rajah got out of the way to avoid being bowled over, joining them after a moment. "Brilliant, Ben."

"Ew, it's _moving_ ," Ruth muttered and took a large step backwards as Ben bent over and poked it with his wand, fascinated. "I thought the Horcrux was a locket and dormant right now. So what's casting the shadow?"

"Maybe _dormant_ doesn't equate to _entirely inactive_ ," Carrington said, and the whole team shuddered.

"So, let's figure this out," Sirius continued. "You were fine with this room the first day we came. You kept being fine with it until two days ago, and suddenly you're scared of it. So something must have _changed_." He walked to the centre of the room and drew his wand, then rotated slowly. After two rotations, he shook his head.

"Elen, nothing's different except that the dirt's gone and the sink's running hot water now."

"It's not that," Elen said instantly.

Sirius sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Well... is it the whole room, or is it worse in one particular place? Maybe it's a Boggart or something."

"There. Somewhere round there." Elen waved vaguely at the very darkest part of the room, opposite the pantry, where Rajah and his team had gathered. Sirius' memory stalked right through all four of them, on high alert, wand up and prepared to deal with _anything_.

"Hey, what just happened?" Ruth asked. Carrington had jumped, as had Ben.

"Sirius! It's _gone_..." Elen's memory-figure came into the kitchen and put a hand on his wand arm. "It's _gone._ "

"Indeed," Rajah breathed in astonishment, over Sirius' confused voice saying that whatever it was suddenly just _vanishing_ didn't make _sense._ He stared at the once-shadowy corner. "Someone's reversed the direction of the shadows in this room, and they're _normal_ again, and they turned the sunlight back on while they were at it." The memory-images swirled and faded.

"That'll be useful," Ben said immediately. "Fairly poor range – it'd be nice if it was a mile or something so we could do a broad dowsing and then narrow it in, but twenty-odd feet, give or take... we can work with that."

"Definitely," Ruth agreed and high-fived Carrington. Rajah smiled broadly.

* * *

"Well, here goes," Rajah said softly as the whole team gathered around the Pensieve for the second time. He prodded the surface with his wand and the contents began to swirl. One by one, they laid their hands flat on the surface of the memory.

At the sight of the huddled, trembling figure at the back of the cell, Ruth bit her lip. _Poor child_. _I was at the trial and thought it then, but honestly... this is awful._

Rajah approached the memory, cane clicking on the stone. "So, from the state of him obviously this memory is from _very_ near the end. Maybe he took my suggestion about using Sirius' rescue."

"Definitely near the end," Ben agreed. "Look at him. I'd give him eight months, ten at the outer limit, before he's dead."

"Did you have to say that?" Ruth asked. "You're right, we can all see it, but _seriously_ , Ben, you don't always have to blurt it out..."

"Everyone, look," Carrington said in a would-be-light voice, catching Ruth by the elbow to shut her up and returning to the subject of timing. "Black's here." He nodded at the door, where an emaciated dog was staring with disbelieving pale eyes at the memory-figure of Elen, who had raised his head to look at him, uncomprehending. Ruth flinched. _Sane and hurting. I can't even imagine._

"If Black's here we should be getting Dementors any time now," she said softly as the dog dragged the bolt open and put one paw inside the cell, hackles rising. "They were cornered according to his Veritaserum testimony." _And I hope I can manage to watch. I don't want to have to see this memory twice. Nobody ever told me that my dream job would include something like this._

"Get ready," Rajah said softly, limping as quickly as he could to the door ahead of Elen. "And please Merlin let them be cornered _soon_ rather than after ten flights of stairs..."

The lamps went out.

"I think you got your wish," Carrington breathed as a fresh layer of ice formed under their feet. "Here they come."

Ruth backed into him. _I didn't think there'd be this many of them._

"I don't see any kniv–" Ben began, and _then_ Elen's magic wrenched his body into spasm.

Screaming suddenly filled the entire corridor, the pleading, despairing cries of adults and children that shifted in cadence and tone to almost _become_ each other, like some mad choir. The Dementors blurred into each other so much that it was impossible to tell whether there were just four of them, or forty – sometimes a clear glimpse of robe could be seen, but most of the area was covered by a strangeness in the air around them that shattered and reformed into needle-sharp points, directed inwards, slashing and whirling faster than the eye could follow. Pulsing, undulating shadows radiated out from behind the barrier of knives, dragging at Sirius and Elen, snaking around their chests and mouths, forcing darkness into them like acid wherever they touched. Small, frayed scraps of silver floated between smudges of intense blackness, being shredded apart and then forced together until they fused, blazing out brighter and brighter as the screams became ever more deafening and the knives and darkness whirled faster and faster and the pulsing shadows flailed away from Elen in pain, and then, suddenly, it was over. The Dementors were fleeing. The dog shook its head dizzily and managed to stagger to its feet, and the memory went dark.

The team looked at each other over the top of the Pensieve, white and shaken. Rajah's bad leg gave out and Ruth caught him, helping him to a chair. Ben opened his mouth, then changed his mind and ran for the toilet at the end of the corridor. Carrington was the first to speak, shakily.

"Rajah, could you please teach that phoenix song Patronus to all of us?" At Rajah's weak nod, he continued with "Right now? I want to listen to it before I go to sleep tonight. For, I don't know, about three hours." _That... memory... is going to give us all nightmares for months on end. How in the world did Elen Black survive for almost six years?_

"Make that three _days_ of listening to it," Ruth muttered, burying her head in her arms. "I'm **_not_** sleeping tonight."

"All right." Rajah shuddered and rubbed his arms, sick to his stomach, fighting the rising bile. "Just give – give me a moment." _Oh, Merlin. No wonder he refused to give more than one. But they're similar. They're similar. The sharp shadows... the radiating darkness... they're similar. I'd even be willing to bet that if Elen had ever actually seen the locket itself rather than just the outer shadows, he would have seen something very much akin to what we saw just now. The Horcrux was weaker, definitely a lot weaker... but kin to them, all the same._ _ **Merlin**_ _. And I thought Gellert Grindelwald was as evil as any human could get..._

"We can make this work." Ruth dragged her head up and tried not to think about what she'd just seen as Ben staggered back in and collapsed onto a seat, dead white and looking as if he was going to vomit again at any moment. "We have to. Until that is not part of our world anymore, we can't stop until we make this work."

"Agreed," Carrington whispered. "I'll make the coffee as soon as I can get up without throwing up..."

Ben suddenly sat up, colour infusing his face and making him look alive rather than like a wax carving. "Rajah! _We already have the correct components for this!_ Patronus, phoenix song, sunlight, and Healing... all we need to do is _calibrate_ them!" He leapt up and started scribbling formulas on the wall, illness forgotten in his excitement. "This is actually _possible!_ We _can_ make this work!" Ruth stood up, wobbled and sat down, and joined him on her second try. Carrington decided he needed the bathroom and stumbled out the door, looking green, but was back within ten minutes – still looking green, but also looking determined and bearing four mugs and a huge copper coffeepot. Rajah levitated a quill to write out the formula for the phoenix song, throwing screwed-up balls of parchment at Ben whenever Ben got in the way. Carrington sank down beside Rajah and began Summoning books, researching all the potential Healing charms in their entire library.

* * *

 **Author's Note: Well, that's what Dementors look like to Elen when Legilimency is thrown into the mix, and as I said above, I did my best to make them absolute nightmare fuel...**

 **And Rajah is correct. The Horcrux is both similar and weaker. Like comparing a viper with a fifty-foot Basilisk, they're similar enough that Elen sensed the Horcrux's presence and was terrified of it, but the Horcrux wasn't strong enough for him to realise** ** _why_** **he was frightened or, indeed, even exactly WHAT was similar about it. (They're both poisonous snakes, as it were, but one is MASSIVELY more dangerous than the other.) Discovering this similarity and therefore being able to exploit it is where a Pensieve and a research team become very, very useful.**

 **Incidentally, did anyone pick up on the fact that on first hearing about the idea of a Horcrux, Elen instantly thought that Voldemort had** ** _basically made himself into a Dementor_** **? I did it deliberately. :-) Of course, when both Elen's memories made it into the story proper (which wasn't originally planned for), I had to figure out how to make them a) similar enough for this to be plausible and b) different enough for Elen to sense that** ** _something_** **was wrong whenever the locket was near but not be able to articulate what it** ** _was_** **.**


	25. Chapter 24

**Author's Note: To Seena, again, because she made me realise that I needed to write this bit.**

* * *

 **Chapter Twenty-Four**

 ** _Hi Elen_**

 ** _Professor Sprout has a suggestion. Do you want to come to Hogwarts during the Easter holidays, when there's almost nobody here, and have a Herbology lesson with just her and me? Mr Black can come too if you want him, as long as (and I quote) "he doesn't destroy any of my plants; I remember his talent for chaos only too well". It's outside, as I said, and therefore there's no problems with moving staircases or trick doors or, Merlin forbid, Peeves. He stole my Transfiguration homework two days ago, folded it into paper darts, and threw them at Professor Flitwick!_**

 ** _And if you like, I can show you the Hufflepuff common room afterwards. We can go in the French windows at the end of the corridor and there's no way to get locked in or lost if we take that route. I've asked the twelve Hufflepuffs who are staying for the holiday to avoid it just for that afternoon if you decide to come. Nobody minded; in fact, it exploded into a plan for a six-course picnic of desserts only and they're going to introduce each other to strange party games and maybe have a pick-up Quidditch match – so don't feel like you're being a nuisance, because they're going to do it whether you come or not!_**

 ** _We've been writing for almost two months now. Do you think you'd like to meet me properly?_**

 ** _Cedric_**

* * *

"Sirius?" Elen handed him the letter. "Will you come?"

Sirius scanned the letter and forcibly kept his jaw from dropping. _He wants to_ _ **go**_ _? He actually wants to meet his quill-friend Cedric face to face? Oh Merlin. This is huge._ "Yes, of course I'll come. And I promise I won't dig anything up. I won't do _anything_ that tempts Professor Sprout to expel me from the greenhouse."

* * *

 ** _Hi Cedric_**

 ** _All right. Sirius is going to come too. What day? (Harry wants to visit Ron for a few days over the holidays and Sirius thinks we should try to line it up.)_**

 ** _Elen_**

* * *

Cedric took a deep breath and let it out again. _I didn't actually expect him to agree. Please, don't let me screw this up..._

 ** _Hi Elen_**

 ** _Monday, two weeks from now, about ten o'clock. Sorry – I gave you all that detail and didn't actually tell you when the invitation was for! I'll wait outside Greenhouse One for you – don't worry, Mr Black will know which one that is._**

 ** _I'm really looking forward to meeting you._**

 ** _Cedric_**

* * *

"Cedric...?"

Cedric's face broke into a smile and he stood. "Elen." He held out his hand. "Welcome to Hufflepuff."

Elen took a deep breath and took Cedric's hand for a moment. "Hi."

"Cedric," Sirius said, nodding to him. "Shall we?"

Cedric grinned. "Sure. It's this way."

"Won't be a moment," Professor Sprout called over from the back of the greenhouse as Cedric pushed the door open. "I thought we'd separate the moly today; it's getting a bit big." She dusted off her hands and smiled at Elen. "I'm glad you could make it. Can you tell me anything about moly?"

Elen looked down and backed up slightly.

"It's a Healing herb," Professor Sprout said calmly. "Specifically, it is valued for its strength to counter Dark Enchantments. It can be eaten raw or used in Healing potions. It's a wonderful beginner's plant because it grows like a weed as long as you treat it with a little kindness. And it's totally harmless – no poisonous thorns, no sleeping gas, no throwing its fruit at people, no Stinksap, nothing." She smiled. "So all that's going to happen is that we'll all get filthy."

Cedric laughed. "Come on, Elen." He glanced at Professor Sprout, who gave him a slight nod. "I'll show you how to do it without damaging the plant." Elen trailed him to a large shallow tub of unusual-looking flowers, something like daisies but with softly shining flowers and long black grasslike leaves. Sirius transformed and lay down by the door, correctly guessing that after the Venomous Tentacula Incident of 1975 (which had for once been completely accidental!) he would not be welcomed anywhere near the plants, and watched Elen hesitantly copy Cedric as he gently burrowed his hands into the soil and detached part of the moly plant from the roots up. Professor Sprout joined in on the other side, correcting Elen's beginner's mistake of pulling at the roots rather than teasing them apart – but again, there was no hint of anger. When Elen managed to detach a good-sized double handful of moly without damaging it, Professor Sprout sent Cedric to the end of the greenhouse for a small pot and gave it to him as a gift.

"Professor Sprout's always doing things like that," Cedric said after the lesson, as they washed themselves off. "She's a fantastic teacher. Almost everyone in Hufflepuff House has been given at least one plant and the few who haven't... well, there's one girl in my year who literally can't keep a plant alive for more than a day. Great at Transfiguration and Ancient Runes, loves flowers, but give her anything green and it just _wilts_... anyway, Professor Sprout worked together with Professor Sinistra and gave her a frozen starflower inside a silver pendant when she came top in Transfiguration. It opens and closes with the moon phases and _everything_. She's brilliant."

Elen smiled and picked up his pot of moly with its three shining flowers. "I like her too."

* * *

"Here's the French windows," Cedric said. Remembering the stern warning Headmistress McGonagall had given him about Elen and magic in general, he didn't pull his wand. "Have you ever seen the Unlocking Charm? Alohomora?"

Elen shook his head.

"We need it to get in," Cedric continued. "It's about the first Charm everyone in Hufflepuff learns, because the alternative is getting lost on the way to breakfast for however long it takes to learn your way around, which can take _months_."

"Cast it, Cedric," Sirius encouraged. Elen nodded, and Cedric smiled. _He's still settled. He might still be shy of magic, but he's obviously getting better as long as he's warned first. And we_ _ **have**_ _sort-of-known each other for weeks now._ He drew his wand and rotated it in a counterclockwise circle. " _Alohomora_." There was a click and Cedric pulled the window open. "Come on."

"I'll be in the corridor. Right here," Sirius reminded Elen. "You can leave your moly with me. I promise I won't hurt it, and we'll set up a window box or something for it when we get home." _Shallow, keep moist, likes sunlight but will grow in basically any conditions. Best plant possible to start with, Professor – good choice._

"And there's no trick to getting out," Cedric said. "It's only protected on the way _in_. If you want to leave, just leave." He walked with Elen to the end of the passage. "Watch closely." He tapped his fingers on the middle barrel of the second row, which opened. "Two, then three. Hel-ga Hu-ffel-puff. Never changes. But don't go tapping the wrong barrel or the wrong number of times, or you'll end up drenched in vinegar. We haven't had any non-Hufflepuff get into our common room for over a hundred years, and we intend to keep it that way. You try." Elen tapped his fingers on the barrel and it opened again. "And that's all there is to it. Come on in."

The room was cosy and warm, decorated in shades of yellow and brown with a lot of polished copper that reflected the light and warmth of a flickering fire. Plants were dotted everywhere – hanging from baskets, blooming from wall niches, attracting butterflies on the window ledge, and there was one plant on a back table that was changing its leaf colour and shape every ten seconds and giggling to itself. As Cedric had promised, the room was deserted.

"So," Cedric said. "Welcome to Hufflepuff, Elen. This is our common room." He turned and pointed to the portrait hung above the fireplace. "And that is Helga Hufflepuff herself." The portrait smiled widely and waved to them. Cedric waved back and Elen, once again, copied him. "She doesn't speak, unfortunately – best guess is that the enchantment to give portraits the personality of the subject was invented when she was still alive, but the one to make portraits _speak_ was invented after her death."

"There was a portrait of Sirius' mum at home," Elen said, looking around. "She was scary. If you made the slightest bit of noise in the hall she'd start screaming at you and wouldn't shut up. Kreacher told Sirius how to get rid of her portrait a bit before Christmas. I prefer Helga." The portrait laughed silently and gave him a thumbs-up.

Cedric pulled a face. "Yes, well, some people should _never_ have portraits painted of them. There's a mad knight near the North Tower, and I don't know what Barnabas the Barmy was thinking when he agreed to be immortalised in tapestry being clubbed by trolls dressed as ballet dancers."

Elen blinked. "Are you joking?"

"Not at all. He tried to teach ballet to mountain trolls. They didn't like it. But he kept at it for four years before he died."

Elen shook his head, disbelieving. _All wizards are at least a little mad, I guess. Even Sirius is a little mad at times. I will never forget those blue ears._ He looked around the room again.

"Hey, that's moly!"

Cedric smiled.

"There's a reason that Hufflepuffs tend to do really well in Herbology. Check out some of the others if you want to; they're all harmless. Or I could show you the dorm; we've got quite a collection of hobby stuff in there. Quidditch of course, and a great collection of fiction that just gets added to over the years for everyone's enjoyment, and there's a ton of uncompleted Charms Club projects, but Daniel's into stamp collecting and magical animation and has about twelve books full of stamps that come to life whenever you touch them and he doesn't mind people looking as long as nothing gets broken..."

* * *

"So, I assume that went fairly well," Sirius said with a grin. Elen had come out of the common room twenty minutes later, Cedric accompanying him. "What's it like in there?"

Elen looked at him, surprised. "Don't you know?"

Sirius shook his head. "Nope. Got drenched in vinegar a record-breaking forty-two times before I gave up trying to sneak in. I thought Ravenclaw Tower's riddles were bad, but I still got through about twelve times. The Hufflepuffs don't even seem to _have_ a password."

"That's why it's a _secret_ password," Cedric said with a laugh, and Elen smiled.

 _He's starting to get tired; I think this is enough for today._ _Make polite goodbyes, and leave._ "Oh Merlin, they've corrupted you already," Sirius said, winking at Cedric. "I'm glad you and Cedric got to meet, but I think we'd better leave now."

"Yes," Elen said immediately.

"It was nice to meet you, Elen," Cedric said. "Come again sometime. Come to a Quidditch match."

Elen looked down and took Sirius' hand, staying close to him. "Maybe." He smiled shyly. "I did have fun, Cedric. But I didn't like the crowd at Diagon Alley."

Cedric shrugged. "No problem. Come along to a Quidditch _practice_ sometime if you like; seven's hardly a crowd. I'll send you the schedule. And no cheating by telling Harry what we're practising."

"If he asks, which he won't, I can truthfully say that you're flying around on broomsticks with flying balls trying to throw them through a hoop. And there's one ball that hides," Elen said. "I don't think that'll help much."

"If Harry asks, which I agree he won't do," Sirius said in a deliberately even voice as Cedric tried not to burst into flabbergasted laughter, "you tell him exactly that, in exactly those words." _Because that is beyond a doubt_ _ **the**_ _worst description of Quidditch I have ever heard in my life. And you weren't even joking._

Elen gave him a long look. "Only if you don't tell him to ask me."

"Curses, foiled again. Thanks, Cedric. Really."

"Thanks Cedric," Elen echoed.

"You're welcome. Have a safe trip back." Cedric walked them to the gates and then set off at a jog to join the picnic. _The more they know, the less they'll invent. Professor Sprout's been answering questions about him for_ _ **weeks**_ _now, and they all knew I was meeting him, and there's no reason to wait. He's fine, he's not dangerous – although that'd probably change if someone scared him with magic, which according to Headmistress McGonagall probably wouldn't take much – and when he's finally ready to brave more than one wizard at a time without Mr Black_ _ **right there**_ _, Hufflepuff House_ _ **will**_ _accept him if I have anything to do with it._


	26. Chapter 25

**Chapter Twenty-Five**

"Ready?" Sirius tugged his jacket straight and smiled. _Not exactly something you're supposed to wear to a graveyard – a Muggle motorcycle jacket from that nearby curiosities market which for some inexplicable reason says BORN TO RUNE in studs – but James would have laughed and Lily would have killed me, so that's perfectly normal then._

Harry smiled. Sirius had told them about this outing after he'd returned from Ron's a day ago, and he'd been looking forward to it ever since. "Ready." _I can't believe I_ _ **finally**_ _get to say goodbye to my parents. To visit their graves. I've wanted to for so long, but I knew the Dursleys would just ridicule the notion so I never even asked them._ "Elen?"

Elen sighed. "I guess so. Sirius, I don't remember them, I've tried and tried..."

Sirius hugged him. "I know. But that means that you had a happy childhood, and your family loved you. That's the only way that the Dementors could have stolen _all_ your memories. And maybe going back to the area will reawaken some of them." _You at least remember your father. Stepfather. Dad. Oh, whatever. I know you do. He's buried in there somewhere; it's just a matter of getting your memories to resurface._ He held out his arm to Harry, who took it. "We'll do James and Lily at Godric's Hollow first, and then we'll see how you feel, okay?"

* * *

"'The last enemy that shall be destroyed is death'?" Sirius read incredulously. "Who in the world would choose that? It's nothing like them. James would have wanted something like 'Stop moping around here – go prank somebody and bring me along if you think you can get away with it without being arrested' and Lily would have wanted something about family."

Elen laughed. "They sound like you. I think I would have liked them."

Sirius smiled back and turned to Harry, resting his arm across his shaking shoulders. "They were absolutely crazy about you, you know. I got firecalls almost every day from one or the other of them telling me all about everything you'd done recently. Including flying a toy broomstick at top speed inside the house and almost annihilating their cat." Harry gasped and began to laugh, and the laughter unlocked the tears, and Sirius hugged him. After a few minutes, he spoke.

"I never did that!" He paused. "Did I really?"

"Oh yes. Yes, you did. Bastable lost one of his nine lives that day. You flew straight at him and he got such a fright that he fell off the banister at the top of the stairs. Lily heard this almighty thump and ran out from the kitchen to see him sprawled on his stomach like an honest-to-goodness cat rug three steps up, stunned, and you doing loop-the-loops as James egged you on from the landing." Sirius also started to laugh. "I heard that particular story twice. Your dad was ecstatic about your ability on a broom. Your mum was beside herself – she yelled herself hoarse at James for encouraging you to break your neck. She cooled off after a few days, but Bastable never came near you again."

"I'm not surprised," Elen said dryly. He looked sidelong at Harry, a slight smile lifting one corner of his mouth. "Please don't try it on Crookshanks."

"I _wouldn't_ – oh. You're having me on." Elen nodded.

Sirius drew his wand. "Harry, here." He rotated it and whispered a spell, then handed the flowers to him. "One for Lily, and now one for James..." The dark red carnations and the orange lilies waved together in the slight breeze, and Harry laid his hand against the stone.

"Bye Mum. Bye Dad."

Sirius hugged him again. "No, Harry. Not goodbye. They're not really gone, you know. They'll never be gone. They still love you more than anything. They're still the same as ever they were. And _this_... _this_ is something that James would do at a moment like this." He cast a ward to prevent any Muggles from being able to see the graveyard, then reached down and flicked the central carnation, which promptly drenched all three of them in thick purple goo that smelt of grapes.

Harry yelled in shock; Elen flinched sharply and tried to shake the gunk off. Then Harry started to laugh, Elen joined in, and Sirius transformed and danced away as Harry tore after him swearing dire revenge and Elen followed his half-laughed directions to try to box Sirius in, leaving fading purple footprints all over the lawn.

* * *

Elen shook his head, looking at the pictures of his parents on their headstone. "Sirius, they might as well be strangers. I don't remember anything." He hid his face against Sirius' jacket. "I don't remember them."

Sirius gently hugged him. "It's all right."

"No! It's not all right!" _I don't remember my_ _ **parents**_ _, who loved me so much that the Dementors took_ _ **everything**_ _; how could that possibly be all right?_

 _Oops._ "Wrong words. Sorry. It's _going to be_ all right."

"I don't remember my parents either," Harry offered shyly. "All I have are photographs and whatever stories other people tell me about them. It's rough." _Well, I also remember the psychopathic laughter and flash of green, but I'm not introducing him into_ _ **any**_ _conversation about parents, let alone_ _ **this**_ _one._

Sirius smiled suddenly, a thought striking. _Photographs. Harry, you're a genius. There must be_ _ **some**_ _way to get photographs of Elen's original family. Maybe we'll even find a photograph somewhere of Elen and his dad_ _ **together**_ _! As soon as we get back, I'll get started on that._

"Do you want to put something on the grave before we go?"

Elen turned back to face the stone. The grave was fairly neat, but bore unmistakable hack-and-slash traces on the grass. Clearly, it had been abandoned for some time... and clearly Sirius had been the one to attempt to tidy it up. He gave the photographs another long, unremembering look, then reread the words.

 ** _Eileen Sinclair (16.01.1950 – 21.09.1978)  
Robert Sinclair (30.11.1946 – 9.10.1984)_**

 ** _The term is over; the holidays have begun.  
The dream is ended; this is the morning. _**

"Yes." _Even if I don't remember them, they still loved me. I think._

Sirius smiled and drew his wand. "Rosemary for this one, I think." _Because I believe that someday you will remember._ "And no purple goo. I promise."

Elen put the wreath on the grass and looked at the words yet again. "At least I know something about them now." He smiled sadly and ran his fingers over the inscription. "They also liked Narnia."

 _All right, that's it._ Sirius sighed and hugged him again. _If that's the only link Elen can find between himself and his parents, then it looks like I'm reading those books. And the next time I encounter Lucius Malfoy, I'll quote them at him. Should be fun._

* * *

The grave of Elen's grandfather didn't jog any memories either, although since it didn't have a photograph this was unsurprising. Nobody recognised the quote this time, or even fully understood it, but they all thought it was strangely beautiful.

 ** _Keep me as the apple of your eye;  
hide me in the shadow of your wings.  
Earth has no sorrow that heaven cannot heal._**

 ** _Edward Carlyle, b. 1908, d. 1989._**

Sirius rested his arms across his children's shoulders. "Let's go home."

* * *

 **Three weeks later**

"Wow," Elen breathed, gently turning the pages of the album. "Is that my dad? Is... is that _me?_ " He touched the photograph gently. "I don't think I was ever that small... Sirius, where did you _find_ this?"

Sirius flopped on the arm of the armchair and Elen squashed over to make room for Sirius to sit beside him. "It wasn't easy." He smiled tiredly, and sighed. _No record that you ever existed; everyone who knew your dad thought he was a childless widower; everyone who knew your grandfather thought his last living relative was your mother; curse Memory Charms and their stinking ripple effect to the ends of the universe. But they don't meddle with_ _ **actual**_ _photographic evidence. It's just that nobody could see you in them, their eyes just slid right off you, so getting people to show me what I needed was near-impossible because_ _ **they**_ _couldn't see it, and I couldn't push them too hard because if I accidentally broke the Memory Charms it'd have broken their minds as well..._ "Here, Elen, look at this one, that's your grandfather when he was about my age, and just _look_ at that thing behind him, it's _amazing_ , it's like a cross between my motorbike and a wand and he used it to fight mid-air _duels_..."

Harry leaned over the other arm. "He was a fighter pilot? Brilliant!"

"Yeah, he fought in the Muggle division of the Grindelwald War, apparently. Against Rudolf Hiller?"

" _Adolf Hitler_ ," Harry corrected. "Wait... I didn't know that was a _magical_ war! Why doesn't Binns teach stuff like – actually, no. I'll ask Hermione about it. If I ask Binns I'll lose interest within ten seconds." Sirius laughed.

Elen was ignoring the side discussion. He turned the page and smiled. "Is this when my parents got married?" He brushed the edge of the photograph with his fingertips. "She's beautiful. And my dad looks so happy..." He leant into the crook of Sirius' arm and turned some more pages, until the photographs stopped. At the end of the book were about ten blank pages.

Sirius smiled at him. "For if we find some more. We can even add pages in if we run out of space; a simple Expanding Charm will do the trick." _Now that I know where to look, I can just put the glamour on again and..._

Elen smiled back, the happiest smile Sirius had ever seen on his face. "Where did you put the camera?"

* * *

 **Author's Note: The previous several chapters – everything between the Christmas celebration and now – were** ** _hell_** **to write. Transitioning to the ending I wanted so very badly drove me almost round the twist. I have so many outtakes and wrong turns it's not funny. Although some** ** _bits_** **from those outtakes and wrong turns actually ended up making it into the story, so I'm glad I saved them!**

 **The quotes... well, Rowling's one on James' and Lily's grave is from the Bible, as everyone probably already knows, but it certainly doesn't reflect the Potters' personalities as conceived of here – particularly James' – ergo why Sirius couldn't** ** _believe_** **it was on their grave. (Lily's a closer match to the sentiment, but I still don't think it's really her – it's too heavy. It'd do well on Dumbledore's grave, perhaps, but not the Potters'.) The one on Eileen's and Robert's grave is indeed from Narnia – specifically, the end of** ** _The Last Battle_** **. The twofold quote on Edward Carlyle's grave is from a list of things people put on tombstones (I love the Internet); originally, half of it is from the Bible and half from Thomas Moore. And yes, I know it's at** ** _least_** **as heavy as Rowling's one from the Potters' grave, but my reasoning behind it was that Dumbledore wiped Edward's memory** **, not of a _single_ _event_ or even a _casual acquaintance_ , but of _a close family member who was a huge part of his life_... ****his grandson Elen, who'd lived with him for almost two years. That would have left a huge hole, and he would have grieved without ever knowing why it felt like a much more recent pain than the loss of his daughter Eileen, so therefore a serious and thoughtful inscription is suitable for him. (Memory Charms have such potential to be ABSOLUTELY HORRIFIC...)**

 **And yes. The Muggle who made Sirius' motorcycle jacket is a Discworld fan. Sirius, on the other hand, has never even** ** _heard_** **of it. The jacket is the Dean's jacket from 1994's** ** _Soul Music_** **... so it might JUST BARELY be within spitting distance of the correct timeframe, too!**

 **The next chapter is HUGE. Well, for me it is. Over five thousand words...**


	27. Chapter 26

**Chapter Twenty-Six**

It had only taken two months for the Unspeakables to create a dowsing spell that alerted the entire Auror department whenever an Auror came within twenty feet of a Horcrux, but they'd then spent four most exasperating months trying to _desensitise_ it to the Dementors, as there were Aurors keeping them contained on the island and every time a Dementor got within twenty feet of an Auror the alarm immediately sounded. They'd had to turn it off for the whole four months while they tried to adjust it. Eventually the Unspeakables had given up entirely on trying to make it stop alerting to Dementors, and sidestepped the issue by creating an "out-of-range" zone around Azkaban. All of this had meant that there hadn't been an opportunity to try to push the range outwards... but they hadn't needed to, because nineteen days after the spell once again went live, Tonks had been invited over for dinner with Sirius, Remus, Elen and Harry as Sirius tried to fan the flames of her crush on Remus, and the alarm had gone off.

"Everybody just stay calm and don't panic." Kingsley looked around the room. "Now, what on earth could it be?"

"Look," Sirius said in irritation, "there's nothing portable in the entire bloody room that's more than five years old except us and the tablecloth, and if You-Know-Who put part of his soul in a _lace tablecloth with sunflowers on it_ that my mother only kept to not offend a _very_ rich relative and we only kept because Elen has no taste..." He started laughing and Elen stuck his tongue out at him.

"How do we know it's not _you_ who doesn't have taste, Mr Once Set Greenhouse Three On Fire _By Accident?_ " he teased, smiling slightly.

"Because I'm brilliant and I am the epitome of good taste due to my coming from a mostly-inbred line of morons," Sirius replied with an answering grin. "Our undeniable good taste was all we had. Velvet and lace all the way – in every shade of green you could imagine, no less – and never mind the weather or, more importantly, how _ridiculous_ we looked. And it _wasn't_ my fault, thank you very much, it was because James was tickling the Venomous Tentacula and it decided it _liked_ it and tried to eat his face." Everyone laughed. "Kingsley... are you sure that spell's working right? It's not picking up the remains of that sodding locket? Because I know they had problems with it…"

Kingsley shook his head and chose his words carefully, trying to make himself clear _without_ mentioning Azkaban. "No, the Department of Mysteries made sure that wouldn't happen. It's calibrated to alarm when it senses either the spreading darkness or a shattered soul, both based on Elen's impressions, and he quite naturally kept away from the Horcrux, so they had to use the other memory for most of it. Therefore, guess what kept setting the blasted thing off! That was the problem. But that's definitely not what set it off here."

"Oh," Sirius said. "Well, drat. Should we all leave while you search?"

"No, don't. I think I know what it is," Auror Dawlish said suddenly and sadly, paling. His heavy hand landed on Elen's shoulder. Elen's eyes went dark and wide with fear as he instinctively cringed. " _This._ "

Elen tried to get away from him, and Dawlish immediately forced his arms behind his back, inexorable but being as gentle as he could. Elen's bracelet lit up and Dawlish swore as the anti-Apparation field slammed down and swore again as it let off a deafening whistle, moving his hands quickly up to Elen's elbows to avoid being burnt by it a moment later. "Elen, calm down. It's all right. I'm not trying to hurt you." _We're at stalemate for now – he can't do anything ergo the Horcrux in him can't do anything, but nor can I, and that bracelet has still more Charms to go..._

"Stop it!" Elen struggled and writhed against Dawlish's gentle grip but couldn't get loose; Dawlish was used to restraining far stronger and more violent people than Elen, and even with the bracelet he was still thoroughly outmatched so far. "Let go!"

"Settle down. We're staying right here, and I won't hurt you. I _prom-_ _ **AAUGH!**_ " Dawlish's last word became a scream as Crookshanks latched onto his right leg with all four sets of claws. A moment later, Crookshanks bit him as well, raking his back claws down the length of Dawlish's shin. Dawlish bit his tongue and forced a mantra through his head: _don't hurt his therapy cat, don't you_ _ **dare**_ _hurt his bloody overprotective miniature tiger even if it scratches your leg to ribbons..._ The bracelet viciously sprayed acid directly at his eyes, which he only just managed to avoid. _Bloody hell, Black, what_ _ **didn't**_ _you buy for that thing?_ "Calm down!"

Sirius leapt at Dawlish, whipping his wand out. " _Stupefy!_ " _Get Elen loose, get him loose..._ Dawlish twisted sharply aside, dragging Elen helplessly with him and managing to shake Crookshanks off, and the spell hit the wall and exploded. Elen screamed at the flash of light and noise and began to fight wildly, thrashing and twisting and trying to bite Dawlish in utter panic. Sirius froze. _How do we stop this_ _ **now**_ _? How can I get him away from Dawlish, who won't hesitate to use magic, without scaring him so much that we risk him losing control and destroying us all?_

The moment Sirius had leapt at Dawlish, Remus had grabbed Harry's shoulder and forced him under the table. He pulled out his own wand and swept his spell across the entire area. " _Finite Incantatem!_ " _If he's been bewitched to drag Elen off, that will dispel it… no, he's not bewitched, he's not letting go!_ Sirius' Stunning Spell missed and exploded; Elen screamed. Remus whipped his wand up and attacked with a _very_ carefully-chosen spell. _This won't scare Elen; he's seen it before, and it's like my birds. If we use up our whole year's worth of luck in this one moment, it might even calm him down. And if it doesn't scare Dawlish into letting him go I'll tie them both up and_ _ **immediately**_ _Vanish the cords binding Elen…_ " _SERPENSOR–_ "

"STOP IT!" Kingsley yelled, wand out and ready to block an attack from any side. _How did the situation deteriorate into this in only five seconds?_ "John, let him go _this instant_ or I'll knock you unconscious myself! Tonks, get in there, calm him down!" Dawlish's hold slackened in shock and Elen tore loose from him and bolted, eyes wild. Sirius instantly darted between Dawlish and Elen to prevent him from chasing Elen down, wand out and ready to cast anything from a Shield Charm to an Inside-Out Hex that would take the Healers a week to reverse. _Over my dead body will you get anywhere near him again._ Tonks got hold of Elen as he tried to get to the kitchen door, grasping his left wrist and spinning him round to pin it against his torso as she hugged him from behind; a hold that partially-disabled him but was nowhere near as frightening, as it left one arm completely free _._

"Shhh, Elen. I've got you; you're okay..." Elen's bracelet had dulled the moment he'd escaped Dawlish's grip, and to Tonks' profound relief it wasn't lighting up again. _Thank Merlin that I'm one of the people he trusts! Given the acid spray was only the fourth step in that Charm Chain, I wouldn't like to go up against any more of it. That would have_ _ **blinded**_ _John if it'd hit him!_

"Elen, it's okay. You're safe. Even if John's right we won't hurt you; we'll figure it out." She hummed soothingly in the back of her throat as he tried to wrench himself away from her, clawing and scratching, his terrified screams half-choking him. Crookshanks stood up against him, mewing, then twined himself around both their ankles. "Elen, listen to me. Listen. I _promise_. Look at Crookshanks, Elen, he's right here and he's purring. Calm down..." _I don't care if Elen scratches my arms bloody –_ _ **OUCH!**_ _– and pulls half my hair out; I'm_ _ **not**_ _disabling him entirely because he'll just panic more..._ She screwed up her face for a moment, shortening her hair so that Elen couldn't rip out any more of it.

"John, what in Merlin's name _possessed_ you?" Kingsley asked, lowering his wand but not putting it away. "You **_never_** forcibly overpower somebody with Elen's history unless they're either hurting themselves or hurting other people! You _talk_ to them, you _reason_ with them, but you **_don't_** attack them! Have you forgotten _all_ your training? This–" he jerked his head in the general direction of Tonks, now sporting a pink-and-purple striped buzzcut instead of her normal chin-length pink hairstyle, and still trying to get through to Elen "–could have been avoided! And now we can't let him go because he's so scared he's not thinking, and that's a surefire way for him to get himself hurt! NO DON'T YOU **_DARE_** TRY TO SEDATE HIM! Even _Sirius_ mightn't be able to make a Calming Charm take with Elen in this state, and we can't risk it failing because it's a _mental attack!_ Do you want him to kill us all _without realising it?_ "

Dawlish flushed a deep, painful red; lowering his wand again. "Point taken." He paused. "But I'm _right_. I'm sorry, but I'm right. It has to be him. He's a stinking _Parselmouth!_ He's sensitised to them to the extent of saying the Horcrux felt _familiar_. It has to have come from somewhere. It all makes sense if he's a Horcrux himself, and I thought if I disabled him the Horcrux wouldn't be able to attack either." _Not that this excuses what I just did... and now we've got a situation on our hands, and he's not calming down, and there's nothing I can do to help._

"I'm a Parselmouth too!" Harry said hotly, emerging from under the table despite Remus' attempts to keep him there. "That doesn't mean anything! So he talks to snakes, big deal. You just _terrified_ him! Why would you grab him like that; you're an _Auror_ , you should know _better_..."

Dawlish flushed again in acute embarrassment. _And now a thirteen-year-old tells me what I should have realised had I only thought about his_ _ **history**_ _before I acted to mitigate the danger._ "I agree. I should have known better. It was a completely stupid thing to do." _Even if it_ _ **was**_ _the explosion from Sirius' spell that pushed him over the edge, I was the reason he cast it in the first place._

Sirius glanced at Kingsley, torn between protecting Elen and calming him down. Kingsley immediately joined him, replacing him as the guard, and Sirius spun. He ran over to reinforce Tonks as Elen fought her, arching his back and thrashing, ignoring Crookshanks entirely as his fingernails bloodied her arms. "Tonks, let him go, let _me_ have him!" Tonks instantly let go with a sigh of relief, letting Sirius take over. _If anyone can get through to Elen in this state, it'll be Sirius. He hasn't even_ _ **noticed**_ _Crookshanks, and he's too panicked to even_ _ **hear**_ _me trying to calm him down. In this state, he may not even know who I am... or, even worse,_ _ **what**_ _I am. If he's having a flashback, that Legilimency could go off at any moment... oh Merlin oh Merlin oh Merlin..._

"Elen, it's okay; you're safe... shhh..." Sirius tripped Elen up, transformed and flopped on top of him, using his weight to pin him, and began to lick all over Elen's face and hair, nuzzling him and whining. _There we are, Elen. You remember how we started out? You can trust me. You know you can._ Crookshanks joined in, snuggling against Elen's side and purring his hardest. Tonks began to stroke Crookshanks' flank, and he rolled over and began to bat at her hand in play. Elen's breath slowly calmed, and he stopped struggling, trying to twist round to hug Sirius. Sirius moved slightly to the side and transformed back, immediately getting Elen in his arms and keeping them both down, making _sure_ that he was still between Elen and Dawlish.

"There, you see? It's all right. I'm here. You're safe, you're okay now." He smiled as Elen curled into him and clung to him and trembled. Tonks sat down beside them and lifted Crookshanks up to rub against Elen's face, and Elen slowly began to relax again, loosening his hold on Sirius with one arm so that he could pull Crookshanks against him as well. At the sign of trust, Tonks laid her hand flat against his back and started talking quietly; once again promising that he would _not_ be hurt even if he was a Horcrux, that they'd figure it out, that he was safe and he had Sirius and he had Crookshanks and it was going to be all right; and also that she didn't think he was a Horcrux anyway, that it had to be something else and if this was another bug she'd hex Rajah to change colour every time he blinked and wouldn't _that_ look silly, and whatever the Horcrux was they'd destroy it and they wouldn't hurt him.

"Sorry, Tonks," Elen whispered, looking at the scratches from the safety of Sirius' arms. "Sorry."

"Not a problem," Tonks said lightly, growing her hair back with a flick of her head. "Two taps of my wand and they'll be Healed. You were scared out of your mind. Now, if you'd done it _deliberately_ , we'd be having words." _And oh Merlin if you'd lost control of your magic... I'm_ _ **glad**_ _that I only got scratches from that panic attack!_ She grinned and stuck out her hand. "Friends again?"

Elen nodded and turned towards Sirius again, hiding against him but taking her hand. "Friends again. Yes."

Sirius looked over his shoulder at Dawlish, the soft smile becoming a furious glare. He kept his voice quiet and even, to avoid startling Elen, and this made it more terrible than it would have been had he shouted.

"Have you forgotten that he helped us destroy the locket Horcrux? Have you forgotten _why_ he's so sensitive? We already know the reason, and it's not that! And as far as _disabling_ is concerned, if he wasn't so gentle you'd be in St Mungo's right now. Pinning his arms behind his back would never subdue his Legilimency; but _he_ has. So I ask you... what the _hell_ were you thinking, attacking him like that?"

Dawlish gulped, suddenly feeling sick. _He's right. Merlin. I just dodged an Avada Kedavra there, and I never even saw the flash of green..._

"I have an idea," Remus said into the fraught atmosphere. "You all stay in this room, we'll leave, and then you reset that alarm. If it goes off with none of us there, then it's probably something under the floorboards or something. If it doesn't, then each of us will come into this room alone, one at a time. If the alarm goes off for Elen... well... at least we'll know, I guess. If the alarm goes off for anyone else, it's got a bug. And one more thing – if you can set it so that all the other Aurors know that there's _already_ a team dealing with it, we'd really appreciate it. We've had enough drama for one day."

Sirius sighed as he rubbed Elen's back. "Did someone lay a curse on this place when I wasn't looking to make it a magnetic Horcrux Holiday Destination? It's a bug. It has to be."

Kingsley sighed too. "Good idea, Remus. Let's do that. And yes, we'll keep it to just us until we know what the Horcrux is."

"I'll wait in the corridor until the alarm goes off again," Dawlish promised Elen in his calmest voice, trying to project as much trustworthiness as possible. "And when I come back in I won't come anywhere near you." _Even though you're a Horcrux,_ _ **you're**_ _clearly in control, not it... for now..._

Elen stared warily at Dawlish, who held up his hands in surrender and nodded, backing away, right out the door, shutting it gently behind him.

 _I promised, Elen, and I keep my promises. But if it attacks you you're not strong enough to fight it. Sirius was adamant about that when we destroyed the locket, and nothing's changed since. You're obviously still badly damaged, and it could easily exploit that. And three Aurors are better than two when facing something that powerful and evil. I'll stay right down the far end of the room, and I won't separate you from Sirius again, but if it takes you, if it gains control, the more people we have to fight it the better. We won't have a near-miraculous escape this time, because you're one of Kreacher's Masters and he can't harm you... so it'll be on us, and oh Merlin I hope we're up to it._

"Remus, it's definitely not you, so you come in first. If it goes off we'll leave you in peace and go annoy Rajah about the calibration," Kingsley continued. _Voldemort would use a dirty diaper for a Horcrux over a werewolf._

The alarm did not go off. Not when the room was empty, not for Remus, not for Sirius. Elen was so afraid that Dawlish would be there and attack him again that it took all Sirius' skill at persuasion to convince him that he would be safe... and even then, Elen insisted on carrying Crookshanks in with him and only going _barely_ inside at first, ready to flee straight back to Sirius at a single glimpse of him. But on seeing only Kingsley and Tonks in the room he'd relaxed and come right up to them to make sure that Tonks' arms weren't still bleeding, and yet again, the alarm hadn't activated. The horrific truth dawned on everyone at the same time.

"No..." Sirius whispered, staring at Harry's scar. "No..."

"'He's a Parselmouth; it has to have come from somewhere'," Remus quoted in a strangled voice. "Test it."

"If this is a bug, I'm going to send Rajah a Howler per hour for a whole _week_ for putting us through this," Sirius groaned. "Please Merlin, do not let Harry set it off…"

Harry pushed the door open and entered. And the alarm went off. Dawlish immediately knocked and came back in, balancing his instinct to _never_ go into a potentially-volatile situation unarmed against his certainty that if Elen saw his wand the situation would instantly _become_ volatile. He'd compromised by hiding his wand up his sleeve and keeping his wand arm _down_ , but on seeing not Elen but Harry in the room he stopped dead _. What? That's not – No. No._ He backed away, dumbfounded, shaking his head. _Oh no._

"Oh no," Tonks whispered, unconsciously echoing Dawlish as Remus and Sirius piled into the room to comfort Harry. Elen hesitated in the doorway, his cat rubbing around his legs, trying to summon the courage to join the others despite Dawlish's presence. "Is that spell _safe_ to use on someone without damaging them?" _It_ _ **is**_ _a person. It just isn't who Dawlish thought it was... DAMN Voldemort, damn him!_

"Patronus, phoenix song, healing, sunlight..." Kingsley threw his hands in the air and collapsed into the closest seat. "I think so, but I'm hardly an expert in experimental spellwork, and I never _dreamed_ that we'd need it for something like this. John, please fetch Rajah – actually, no. Please tell Rajah that we need him here, and then stay in the office, clear some of that paperwork you were doing."

Dawlish nodded. "Of course." _Fair enough. I was completely out of line, and although I had good reason to think as I did I shouldn't have acted that way on it._ He looked at Elen, who had finally managed to join the little group around Harry but whose entire wary focus was on Dawlish, ready to bolt at the slightest sudden movement or lifting of his wand. Even Dawlish _looking_ at him had been enough to make him tense up. _Oh,_ _ **crud**_ _. And I was even one of the Aurors he_ _ **didn't**_ _shut down around. I really blew that, didn't I?_ He turned to look at Kingsley instead, clasping his hands behind his back and keeping his wand out of sight. "I'm sorry, Elen... truly, I am. I should never have grabbed you like that. I _swear_ that I wasn't trying to hurt you." He Disapparated.

Sirius hadn't let go of Harry since the alarm had sounded, and nor had Remus. All of them were shaking.

"It's going to be all right," Elen said awkwardly, joining the three-way hug. "Tonks promised they'd work it so it wouldn't hurt me. They'll definitely do it for you, Harry. They all like you. And she _promised._ "

"Why the _hell_ would he ever make you a Horcrux?" Sirius asked in despair. "You're his worst enemy and he wants you dead; making you a Horcrux as well is just _wrong..._ "

"Why _didn't_ Elen sense it?" Tonks wondered aloud, using the question to distract herself, first from the fact that Harry was a Horcrux and _oh dear Merlin let Rajah's spell work_ , and second from Elen's faith in her promise. _I promised him, oh Merlin, I made him a promise that I'm not sure we'll be able to keep! If we can't deliver, if this kills Harry, this will break his trust..._

Elen shook his head. "I don't know! He's not _evil_ ; he's just Harry. There's nothing wrong with him! Maybe it _is_ a bug."

"It's not," Sirius said dully. _It's just like Voldemort, to force us to kill Harry in order to kill him._ "Yay for the spell, it's more sensitive even than you..."

"Harry's alive," Remus said to Tonks, shifting his hug to Sirius for a moment. _Come on, Padfoot. Remember that the spell to find them isn't the_ _ **only**_ _spell they're working on..._ "And he's going to _stay_ that way. We're not going to let anything happen to him. But that could have messed with Elen's sensitivity, I guess. Overshadowed it or something."

Tonks firmly told her face to _not_ change colour. _I'm probably going to sound like a lovesick child; I don't need to look like one as well._ "I think you're right, Remus."

"'Dead, rotting, alive, familiar and horrible'," Kingsley quoted from memory; the unnerving description had swept through the entire Auror Department when Ben and Carrington had first set up the dowse and explained exactly what it was dowsing _for_. "The locket wasn't alive, and the Dementors aren't alive, and none of them have souls of their own... but Harry does. Add to that that Horcruxes are weaker than Dementors, and you've got a perfect recipe for Harry's complete soul interfering with Elen's sensitivity to a shredded one and the evil that's necessary to shred it..."

Elen shivered and pressed himself up against Sirius' back, trying not to interfere with the hug Sirius was giving Harry but unable to cope on his own. "Kingsley..." _Please... just stop talking. Please?_

 _Oops. You're right; I avoided mentioning it once but I completely failed that time. That was_ _ **atrocious**_ _. I think we're all getting overwrought._ "Shutting up right now, Elen. Sorry." Kingsley tried to smile at him but only managed a worried half-lift of his mouth. Elen shut his eyes and shook, curling up again, and Crookshanks squirmed his way into his lap, purring loudly.

Rajah limped in. "I hear we've got ourselves a snag." He tilted his head. "Merlin, I hate Dark Lords. May I see your scar, Harry?"

"Don't hurt him," Sirius said, voice shaking, pulling Harry close as Remus and Crookshanks between them managed to get Elen to uncurl. "I'll do anything. Don't hurt him."

Rajah shook his head. "I promise – no, I _swear_ – that I will try." He brushed Harry's bangs gently out of the way and raised his wand to the lightning scar, silently casting. "Almost thirteen years and it still looks as if it were done yesterday. But... oh, _that's_ interesting." He fell silent.

"What?" six people asked at once.

"It's a soul fragment, sure enough. But it's a Horcrux only because there's nothing else to call it; yes, it tethers You-Know-Who to this world, but that last incantation should have given a visual reproduction of those malevolent shadows Elen sees around this sort of thing and... well, you can all see. It didn't." He looked up in confusion, shading rapidly to horrified realisation. "This was completely accidental, oh Merlin, he made it _by accident!_ It's not a Horcrux in the strictest sense of the word, but it's still a tether and it should still echo out if we destroy it correctly..." Rajah deliberately didn't say the rest of what he was thinking, mindful that everybody was freaking out already. _Oh, Merlin, how many times would he have had to split his soul_ _ **deliberately**_ _to have done it accidentally even_ _ **once**_ _? I shudder to imagine... Four? Five? Ten?_ _ **Fifty**_ _? No no no, Rajah, don't think about it. There are some mysteries that even the Department of Mysteries does not need to even_ _ **try**_ _to understand. We are not investigating that. And I refuse to be curious about it. I refuse. I do not need to know and I do not want to know. We'll push that range outwards so that it alerts Aurors whenever one is created in the entire_ _ **world**_ _. We'll do whatever it takes. I don't care if it takes the rest of my life and all of my magic. But this is never,_ _ **never**_ _going to be a viable road for a Dark Lord to take ever again. Just as I thought we'd covered every twisted permutation of You-Know-Who's twisted mind, something like this happens..._

Harry turned round to hug Sirius. "Look, if I have to die to kill him–"

" _You are not dying!_ " Sirius, Remus and Elen had all spoken at once. Elen continued softly with "You can't. I already lost one family; I'm not losing another."

"Hear hear," Sirius said firmly. "We lost your parents, Remus and I. We're not losing you. And if Voldemort thinks he can make us, well, first I'll bite him in the buttocks and then Remus can bi–"

"Sirius!" Remus choked. "That's _disgusting!_ "

"Yeah," Harry muttered, half-laughing, half-crying. "Think of the taste."

"We've never cast this on a person," Rajah said as the nervous giggles spread to Tonks and Elen. "We never thought we'd have to. It _should_ work, but... I'll come back as soon as we've tested it." _We_ _ **can't**_ _risk Harry Potter on the first human trial of the experimental spell combination of two experimental spells. Looks like one of us is going to have a really interesting day._

* * *

Three hours later, Rajah was back. Sirius hadn't stopped pacing the room except to hug Harry for the whole three hours, and hadn't stopped swearing except to reassure Harry for the same length of time. Remus had attempted to get Harry to eat anything chocolatey that Kreacher could come up with, and hadn't stopped pacing except when Sirius stopped. Elen had tried to deposit Crookshanks in Harry's lap in the hope that since Crookshanks helped him whenever he was unhappy or stressed, maybe his cat would help Harry as well. Crookshanks had promptly leapt out of Harry's lap again and followed Elen round the room until Elen finally picked him back up, purring and purring and doing a remarkable job of keeping Elen fairly settled. Kreacher was almost in tears because Master Harry wasn't eating anything and everyone was miserable and a good house-elf should make the Masters and all of their friends _happy_. Harry was near ready to either scream or vomit and he was keeping his mouth tightly closed because he wasn't sure which one it would be.

"It's fine," Rajah said in lieu of greeting. "I got everyone together and they cast both spells, full strength, on me. And I'm still here. Therefore, we're quite confident that the spells will _only_ hit the Horcrux, not Harry, and get rid of it without harming him. Hopefully."

"Hopefully?" Sirius croaked. "That's my bloody _child_ you're talking about; 'hopefully' isn't good enough!"

Rajah sighed. "Sirius, there's no way around it. It has to be done somehow, and there's more chance of Harry coming through this unscathed than Fiendfyre. At its core, this spell is supposed to _heal;_ Fiendfyre at its core is supposed to _utterly_ _destroy_. Even if we found another Horcrux in the next ten minutes and cast the spell on that instead, it'd affect Harry as it echoes outwards. So if you've got any other way, any other way at all to destroy it and leave Harry unharmed, I'm all ears. What would you have me do?"

Sirius buried his head in his arms. His speech was muffled but still understandable. "Please, no..." _I lost James. I lost Lily. I can't lose Harry._

"Yes," Harry said, drawing himself up. He was shaking all over. "Just get rid of it. We're all dead if it stays." He walked towards Rajah.

"There is no _way_ that you are going alone," Sirius snapped, leaping up. _You're right, Harry; we can't risk it. We have no choice if we don't want to risk the return of Lord Just Die Already, but I am_ _ **not**_ _letting you go alone. I should have been with Lily and James. I should have been there to help. I wasn't. And I'm not making that mistake again._ "I'm your godfather; I'm not leaving you. Remus–"

"Yes, of course I'll stay." _Your other child needs looking after too, and they need everyone they can get if they're going to overcome that power threshold. I know the Patronus, but I don't know_ _ **that**_ _Patronus – yet – and therefore I'm useless for this._ "Elen, come on, come here. I'll stay with you." He looked at Sirius. "You let me know the _minute_ it's done, you understand? And Harry – see you soon."

Elen looked at Harry. "You sure you don't want Crookshanks? He can help. He'll make you feel better..."

Harry laughed weakly. _Only you would try to lend me a cat to make me feel better._ "I'm sure. Honest. He's got his paws full looking after you. See you soon."

Elen took a deep breath. "See you **_later today_**." _Wishing can't hurt._ After they Disapparated, Elen and Remus looked at each other, then Elen turned away, scooped up his cat again and ran out of the room. Remus followed at a brisk walk, knowing exactly where Elen was going.

 _Straight under the bed with Crookshanks to cuddle. I was right._ _This day has been a disaster all round, and that's his refuge. It's been his refuge ever since they arrived here. And he's done extraordinarily well, to cope for this long with this much upheaval and stress. Probably because he knew Harry had it worse and was trying to comfort him... or, failing that, at_ _ **least**_ _trying to not distract Sirius so that Sirius could focus on Harry._ He sat down cross-legged on the thick yellow rug. "Elen, Voldemort already fouled up three attempts to kill Harry. I doubt Attempt Number Four is going to be any different." He smiled, trying to persuade himself to believe it. "I don't know exactly how they've combined the elements of the spell, but I do know what the separate components of it are, and there's no way any of them should harm him." _The only problem we'll have is if this doesn't_ _ **work**_ _._ "It's got four parts. Elen, you've seen a Patronus; you've seen Minerva's Patronus. The shining silver cat?" Elen nodded, watching him, as Crookshanks snuggled up to his chest and purred and purred. "That's part of what they're doing, and then there's phoenix song, which is the most beautiful thing..."

* * *

"Okay, Harry. Stand as still as you can..." Rajah positioned him in the middle of the circular room. Sirius had been banished to the side of the room to give everyone a clear shot, and was about as happy about it as Harry was. Harry was grimacing at the people surrounding him, waiting to cast. _I agreed to let them destroy the Horcrux. I didn't agree to tour as a circus sideshow._ Rajah interpreted the look and smiled wryly. "This spell has a monstrous power threshold to overcome even for a _single_ shattered soul, ergo why we have to have so many people casting. And just between us, I hate being stared at too." He levitated the runestones into a ring around them both, and about twenty people stepped forward to power them.

"This is a precaution. You won't be permanently blinded," Rajah said softly, tapping his wand against Harry's eyes, two taps on each.

"What the –" Harry backed up one step and stumbled, groping with his hands. Rajah caught him.

"The sunlight's going to be concentrated on you, so you _can't_ be allowed to see or it'll damage your eyes for good. Stay there, and stay still." Rajah let go when Harry had found his footing again, and Harry heard his cane clicking away from him.

"Sirius? What's going on?" Harry fought the urge to stumble blindly around in search of him, starting to panic. _I can't see! How am I supposed to fight the Horcrux if I can't see?_

"It's fine, Harry." Sirius' voice was choked. "Just stay there. They're almost rea– **_blimey!_** " He threw up his arms to shield his eyes, curling up against the wall, unprepared for just how bright _Solux Maxima_ truly was even though he was wearing dark glasses and it wasn't focused on him. From a distance, he heard the entire group of about a hundred casting an incantation, and he heard the phoenix song, and he heard the thin evil shriek as the Horcrux was destroyed, and felt a rush of power as the spell echoed outwards.

* * *

In the darkest forest of Albania, Voldemort's wraith suddenly screamed as burning light erupted around it and phoenix song filled the air, dissolving into nothing more than a bad dream.

At Gringotts, a small cup with the Hufflepuff crest on it warped and melted, leaving a sticky black smear down the rear wall of the vault and causing the goblins to issue a statement to the _Daily Prophet_ reading "To any wizard fool enough to pervert and contaminate a goblin-made artefact: this is all that remained of your Dark Lord's soul after we were done with it...". They had also provided photographs of the smear. (On reading this later, the Department of Mysteries had found it highly amusing but had elected to remain silent about the lie, hoping that it would indeed discourage anyone else from trying it... and besides, who was to say that the goblins _wouldn't_ find a way to do exactly that, given that Kreacher the house-elf had managed to destroy one?)

In a completely unrelated incident, a shack on the outskirts of the village of Little Hangleton blew itself sky-high and occasioned a flurry of outraged letters to the local paper along the lines of " _vandals!"_ and " _my poor Snookums got such a fright that she didn't come home for a week!"_

And at Hogwarts, on seeing all the foul-smelling black smoke in the corridor by the dancing trolls with no obvious cause, Argus Filch screamed that if Peeves was setting things on _fire_ now he'd set the Baron on him until he fled the castle and if this was yet another delayed-action prank from the twin banes of his life he'd have them both hauled up to the Headmistress' office for wanton destruction of... of... well, _something!_

* * *

Harry rubbed at his eyes and sat up. "Sirius? Is it over?"

"Yeah," Sirius breathed, taken aback. He launched himself into a run, straight at Harry, and pulled him upright and started spinning around for joy. "Yes, it's over, it's over, take that, Moldy, you're _finished!_ It's over, it's over..."

"Sirius, stop stop stop, I can't see! Take that spell off my eyes – oh, that's better." He smiled, then began to laugh in purest relief. "It's over, it's done, he's _gone!_ " One of the Aurors let off a cheer, and soon the whole room was cheering and laughing and whooping and blowing confetti from their wands, and in the middle of it all were Sirius and Harry, laughing.

* * *

Voldemort destroyed with no loss of life, no second war, no more pain... the party lasted for an entire month and kept flaring up in intermittent spurts for six months afterwards, and the Obliviators – as much as they complained about having to work overtime to keep the Muggles from noticing – still went home and let off a few animated fireworks themselves, and grinned at people on the street, and pulled wizarding crackers with complete strangers, and wore the hats, and joined in the party as much as they could. Even Severus Snape pulled a cracker with Minerva McGonagall at a teacher's party down in Hogsmeade, and claimed the silver potions stirrer that Professor Sprout had managed to sneak into it, although he set the pink polka-dotted top hat on fire to prevent anyone from suggesting he wear it. Professor Sprout persuaded him to take a photograph of the entire Hogwarts staff wearing ridiculous hats ("Severus, either you take the photo or you'll be _in_ the photo, and it's a Silly Hat Photo, so...") and sent it to Elen, with permission, along with a note about who everybody was and what they taught. Elen returned the favour with a photograph of their own – somewhat quieter – celebrations. Cedric invited Elen and his family to spend a day on his family's farm in Devon with him and his parents, and they'd had a Seeker match-up, with Elen throwing golf balls from a conjured platform about two metres high, and Remus throwing them from the air, with Sirius and Cedric's father keeping score and arguing about it, and Crookshanks stealing the golf balls, and Cedric's mother good-naturedly yelling at them to for goodness sake KEEP THOSE BROOMSTICKS AWAY FROM THE PICNIC YOU'VE ALREADY UPSET THE LEMONADE, and Sirius took Elen up behind him on Harry's broom to introduce him to the idea of flying. As the festivities finally started to wind down, Sirius was still laughing about the ironic fact that somebody as egomaniacal as Voldemort had been destroyed _as practice for something else._ When Remus then dryly pointed out the even more ironic fact that Voldemort had deliberately made himself vulnerable to it _by trying to be immortal_ , Sirius laughed for another three months.

* * *

 **Author's Note: This whole chapter was originally a paragraph-long rundown/flashback of the salient points, in the Epilogue, and only a fraction of the length. This was basically because I didn't dare even ATTEMPT to write a present-tense action sequence that happens almost-concurrently** ** _in six different places at once!_** **It's amazing that this chapter exists at all. I'm glad I managed it, though – even though the Horcruxes/Voldemort were the** ** _subplot_** **, wrapping it all up in a single paragraph always felt a little... disappointingly easy. It still bobbles around a little too much, particularly towards the end, but you have no** ** _idea_** **how atrociously difficult it was to even get it to this stage.**

 **And yes. It was chaos at Grimmauld Place for a while there. Elen's better enough to be able to joke easily with Sirius when there's a stranger there as long as they don't threaten him (as opposed to how stressed and timid he was at the picnic with Harry and Remus even though they** ** _weren't_** **threatening him), but nowhere near better enough to** ** _not_** **panic when the stranger's got him disabled and he can't get away and spells are flying. Two steps forward, one step back... but you also get a small snippet of him with a couple of strangers and BEING pretty relaxed about it at the end there – Sirius is with him so that naturally helps – and he's definitely improving. There's no way in the world that he'll ever be anything but utterly hopeless in, say, a duelling situation... but in** ** _normal_** **situations, when he's** ** _not_** **being attacked and Sirius is there, he now feels safe and therefore is pretty much fully recovered.**

 **Small point for anyone wondering what happened to Horcrux!Nagini: as best as I could figure out and I** ** _think_** **according to Rowling herself, Voldemort only made her a Horcrux with the death of Bertha Jorkins. And the only reason that Bertha Jorkins was with Voldemort for him to kill her is because Pettigrew overpowered her and dragged her there... but Pettigrew's imprisoned and therefore didn't meet Bertha and therefore didn't overpower her and drag her to Voldemort. So even though Voldemort was still "alive" during Bertha's holiday, she never encountered him and had a happy holiday in Albania and did** ** _not_** **die in July. (And even if you believe it was Frank Bryce, as Dumbledore did, my point is still valid. Nagini was not yet a Horcrux when Voldemort was destroyed. And if it was someone else, someone random... well, she can just** ** _still_** **not be a Horcrux yet when Voldemort was destroyed.)**

 **Only the Epilogue to go now! Hold on tight...**


	28. Epilogue

**Epilogue: Six years later**

Even though the dual Charms had worked on the Horcruxes, it had taken six years to set up this gathering to get over the required power threshold, and almost as much time to teach enough people the adjusted Patronus Charm. The sixty-strong team at Azkaban were in charge of the sunlight Charm, with another team of fifteen to protect them with the normal Patronus, while over a thousand wizards and witches had gathered on the coastline to cast the modified Patronus. The beach was crowded almost fifty-deep; almost every single person was tense and quiet; the entire coastline was under a Muggle-Repelling Charm; and all eyes were turned to the sea. Out on the rocks, standing near where they'd struggled up them on the first night they'd met, Elen Black stood with his adoptive father Sirius. His yellow-and-black scarf whipped around him as he stared out to sea, shivering. Cedric Diggory, who three years ago had managed to talk him into joining the small faction of Hufflepuff House who stayed over Christmas for the traditional feast in the Great Hall and even to _stay the night_ , left his main group of friends and workmates and slipped through the crowd to say hello. Most of Hufflepuff House's alumni from the past hundred years were on the beach, fidgeting with their wands in nervous but steadfast determination. Other Houses had taken other beaches along the coastline to minimise arguments while waiting for the signal – Sirius' other adopted son Harry was with all his friends in Gryffindor, but Pomona had gently insisted that Elen join his own House for this casting and Elen had wanted Sirius with him (although as Sirius noted, in a crowd of wizards as big as this Elen would have wanted him no matter _what_ beach they ended up on).

Remus Lupin, the first DADA Professor in twenty-five years to stay for more than one year, had decided to go with Harry to the Gryffindor beach. He'd been teaching for six years and counting, and even his lycanthropy being revealed near the start of his fourth year hadn't ousted him, as a) Sirius had been covering his missed lessons for two years by that stage – bringing Elen along with him for anything at his level – and Remus was therefore never, _ever_ , on the grounds during full moon even with the Wolfsbane and b) he was very almost the most popular teacher in the whole of Hogwarts due to the combination of his relaxed, controlled teaching style and him actually knowing the subject so well that he was single-handedly responsible for almost all the Hogwarts students over the age of fifteen and some as young as twelve being able to produce a corporeal Patronus. On hearing that he was going to join the Gryffindors, Tonks had promptly done a series of swaps with two Unspeakables and six other Aurors to get herself assigned there as well.

Still more beaches had been taken over by the foreign contingent: wizards and witches hailing from everywhere from Transylvania – a group of almost a hundred who spoke thirty languages between them but not very much English (their full range extended from the all-important and well-practised phrase "we Patronus Dementors where kill yes?" to the few other words they knew: "no", "bathroom", "sorry", "please", "hunger", "drink", "thanking" and of course the ubiquitous "Quidditch", all spoken in a very thick accent that few people could understand) – to Madagascar – one wizard and six tame lemurs, which he claimed were for moral support. Nobody had argued. He was capable of performing the magic and willing to swear the oath that he would act towards the success of the operation, and that was all they really needed. Severus Snape had singlehandedly bullied the entire sixty-strong staff of the renowned Italian potions research lab which, four years ago, had made him an offer he couldn't refuse (six times the pay, complete creative freedom, professional respect, and last but certainly not least _no Neville Longbottom_ ), first into learning the modified Patronus and then into coming to England to be part of the casting, and all of his colleagues had conspired together to save the Madagascan wizard from his acerbic tongue by keeping the lemurs well away from him – their consensus, after working closely with him for four years to mainstream his improvements to practically every potion under the sun, was that he was both brilliant and impossible in equal measure and could reduce absolutely anyone to the brink of tears in three minutes flat when annoyed.

On the Hufflepuff beach, Pomona Sprout was by far the most relaxed, on her stomach looking down over the rocks for magical sea-plants. Elen Black, on the other hand, was by far the tensest.

Light erupted, blinding and brilliant in a column extending from the horizon to the clouds, reflecting off the ocean like diamonds in silver. The assembled wizards and witches all raised their wands, moving almost as one.

" _EXPECTO PATRONUM CANTATIO!"_

Patronuses erupted from every wand, shining silver, almost dancing together and through and around each other, before every single one of them opened their mouths and began to sing. The wizards gasped as the phoenix song came from not just one Patronus, but many; the song of fifteen hundred phoenixes shimmering through the air from all the beaches along the coast of the North Sea; a sound that nobody on earth had ever heard before, and would never hear again. Still singing, the Patronuses sped over the water to the pillar of light, which shone brighter and brighter until it erupted in silver fire. The song died away and the gathered crowd stared at the pillar of fire with open mouths and eyes full of tears, or laughter – it was impossible to tell which. The pillar grew so bright that it became impossible to look at, yet nobody could look away. Then it faded, leaving everybody blinking away the spots from their eyes and looking at each other, a single question on everyone's minds that nobody wanted to voice.

 _Did it work?_

A mighty rumble sounded from far away, and there was a series of popping noises behind them as four witches and eleven wizards from the Azkaban team Apparated into the roped-off area.

Then, like a tide, the Patronuses returned to the coastline, cavorting otters and badgers and two snakes and a winged horse and several breeds of dog and a centipede and a miniscule mouse and a hawk and a stag and three elephants and a cat with spectacle markings and a clouded leopard and a bear and a wolf and a Komodo dragon and an _actual_ dragon and a hare and five rabbits and a wispy-finned goldfish and an aardvark and a tortoise and a doe and a goat and twelve foxes and a ring-tailed lemur and a dove and a hedgehog and a silver-maned lion and a unicorn and three ravens and an enormous spider and so many more other animals than could be identified or counted, every last one of them shining out like a star. They flowed over and around the assembled wizards, each Patronus returning to the person who had cast it, twining around them before halting in front of each one... and then the Patronuses _changed_ , forms shifting into one or two or seventeen shadows of people, who all reached out to touch the dumbfounded wizard or witch in front of them.

 _Thank you. Thank you. Thank you._ They lifted their arms to the sky and were gone in a whirlwind of light. All along the beaches, wizards and witches raised their arms after them and laughed and cried all at once for pure joy. A few moments later, the rumble increased to a roar, and Elen leant against Sirius' shoulder and took his hand and watched as the island of Azkaban tilted sideways and crumbled into the sea, as if it had never been.

 ** _End_**

~o0o~ ~o0o~ ~o0o~

~o0o~ ~o0o~ ~o0o~

 **Final Author's Note: The imagery in this Epilogue owes A Great Deal to the climax of** ** _The Last Unicorn_** **, which also provided the epigraph right at the start.**

 **For anyone who was wondering, Elen's Patronus was the hedgehog. A useful and desirable creature, and beautiful too; but very shy, all spines and highly self-protective... unless it trusts you. It would also be his Animagus form if he were to go down that route. I toyed with the idea of making Padfoot his Patronus, or Crookshanks, but I thought that the hedgehog was a better representation of who** ** _Elen_** **is.**

 **And yeah. I know I skipped over quite a big chunk there. I guess I was more interested in showing the point Elen was at to begin with (severely damaged; only approaching-normal interaction with ONE person in the entire world) and the** ** _start_** **of his recovery to the stage where the gaps could be mentally filled-in, then skip to here and six years later (with a few brief flashback sentences to give hints at what happened during the intervening time) for everyone to see how much he's improved. I'm sorry if anyone wanted more, but I tried and it dragged – probably because I'd already done everything I needed to for both the plot threads – and I could** ** _not_** **have a long sideline dragging the Epilogue down. There should be enough hints there for everyone to be able to figure out a** ** _basic_** **level of what happened in the intervening years (for example: that Elen attended occasional classes at Hogwarts but never went there full-time).**

 **This did NOT develop into a Horcrux Hunt because (in reverse order of importance):**  
· **I had no idea how to get at the one in Bellatrix's vault,**  
· **the only reason the locket Horcrux made an appearance AT ALL is because Kreacher decided that he was NOT going to let a chance like an actual Parselmouth slip away from him (which surprised me no end, by the way; I love it when a character steps outside the bounds I thought I'd set and** ** _surprises_** **me. In the version of this story that I** ** _thought_** **was complete Kreacher was just "occasionally there"... until he decided he wanted a bigger and far more interesting role). Also, emotionally it really,** ** _really_** **, REALLY works to have the locket Horcrux in there,**  
· **it slowed the story down** ** _dreadfully_** **to the point where it was simply a slog that the reader had to get through before reaching the Epilogue and the tying-up of the MAIN plot,**  
· **and most importantly I hated/loathed/was bored to death by the MacGuffin Quest in Deathly Hallows and didn't care to fight all the way through it myself. It does NOTHING for me.**

 **Well, that's it, people. I hope you enjoyed my story (and if you can spare a moment to leave a review, I really do enjoy reading them). I've always fancied the "Voldemort's heir" concept... but the caveats I have on this area of interest mean that I have** ** _never_** **been able to find an actual story that I like. I've looked and looked and** ** _looked_** **– for YEARS – and it just doesn't seem to exist. Therefore, I naturally ended up writing my own. I always thought that Voldemort's heir would NOT be evil... and that being the heir would have completely destroyed his/her life. And of course it had to end happily. I can take darkness as long as it doesn't stray into sadism, but I can't take** ** _unmitigated_** **darkness.**


End file.
